My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon
by Kat.Bites
Summary: empty another bottle and let me tear you to pieces this is me wishing you into the worst situations im the kind of kid that cant let anything go but you wouldnt know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat. added chapter 24 FINALLY. FALL OUT BOY!
1. Chapter 1

_spent most of last night dragging this lake  
for the corpses of all my past mistakes  
sell me out- the jokes on you  
We are salt- and you are the wound  
Empty another bottle  
And let me tear you to pieces  
This is me wishing you  
Into the worst situations  
I'm the kind of kid  
That can't let anything go  
But you wouldn't know a good thing  
If it came up and slit your throat  
__Your remorse hasn't fallen on deaf ears  
Rather ones that just don't care  
cause I know  
That you're in between arms somewhere  
Next to heartbeats  
Where you shouldn't dare sleep  
Now I'll teach you a lesson  
For keeping secrets from me  
Take your taste back  
Peel back your skin  
And try to forget how it feels inside  
You should try saying no once in a while  
oh once in a while  
And did you hear the news?  
I could dissect you  
And gut you on the stage  
Not as eloquent as I may have imagined  
But it will get the job done(and you're done)  
Every line is plotted and designed  
To leave you standing  
On your bedroom window's ledge  
And everyone else that it hits  
That it gets to  
Is nothing more than collateral damage  
__Take your taste back  
Peel back your skin  
And try to forget how it feels inside  
You should try saying no once in a while  
__oh once in a while..._

chapter one

"This...isn't happening." were the only words that could escape my dry throat. I was standing in the stairwell, watching my mother cry. Watching her cry as my father dragged his bags into his car through the rain. Keys in the ignition, headlights on the garage door, wheels spinning...he was gone. No sound left but sobs and thunder. It rattled the windows and it shook the stairs of the huge house that now only held two. Standing there at the base of the huge double staircase of our giant house, I wondered where it went from here. Dad brought in all the money, dad the lawyer. Mom was a stay at home mom, we couldn't stay in this lawyer bought house...but where would we go?

"What do you think of this house honey?" asked my mother, sliding the newspaper towards me. I looked at the snapshot, disgusted. It was so small. Two stories, eight rooms, one car garage, not attached. It was an ugly creamy yellow with dark blue shutters. Compared to this house, it looked like it was a garage itself. Not a place I really wanted to live, but one glance at the price and I knew we were moving there.

"I'll go start packing." I sighed as I pushed away from the counter. I'm not the kind of girl who fights the inevitable. Moving was something I knew would happen, I'm smart like that, I don't fight what I cant control...contrary to popular belief, which is that I'm some kind of crazy rebel chick. I'm not. I honestly just dress like I am. Like right now, I'm walking around in jeans barely holding onto it's threads, with hot pink tights over them, and a Smiths t-shirt. My hair, oh I love my hair. It's chestnut brown, and comes down to the middle of my back, ending in blood red tips. It's really wavy, but I straighten it all the time. I have bangs that just graze my eyebrows and blend perfectly into the rest of my hair, except when I pull my hair back in little pink or blue or green plastic Barbie clips, which I do quite often (like now). My eyes are hazel and big, and always adorned with heavy black eyeliner, and either black or hot pink eye shadow, depending on my mood. I'm Heather Stephanie Paisley Matheson. Do not judge me.

Two weeks later, my mom and I started our drive from St. Paul, Minnesota to Wilmette, Illinois. I don't know much about the town, other than that it's right outside Chicago...I know that does not make it special. It was like a ten hour ride with all the traffic we got into, but eventually we arrived. I opened the door and almost fell down from my legs being so not used to standing up. The house looked better in person than it did in the paper. The yellow of the house was soft and a nice butter cream color, and the shutters were a dark sleepy navy. It looked bigger too. Maybe ten rooms, and it was wide, so that made for a big basement and it looked to have a big backyard. Yeah I don't know what I could possibly want with that. The house next door was white with the same blue shutters and a matching door. The snow on the roof and lawn made it look like a Christmas card. Almost on cue, a woman stepped out the front door.

"Hey there neighbor!" she called in a friendly voice. Something about her voice seemed familiar, as she began to draw closer, she stopped, and I got it. Lydia. My mom got it too, because she shreaked.

"Lydia!" She called.

"Stephanie!" the woman called back. I couldn't believe it. Did we really move in next to...him...and his mom? Lydia was plumper than she was when she and her son moved to Wilmette. She used to have me over to her house for playdates with her son, and vice versa. He was a nightmare. The terrible twos that didn't stop there. They moved to Wilmette when we were in the second grade

But this couldn't be possible. Just then, a tall tan boy emerged from the back yard. A huge grin spread across his face. No he never did miss a beat did he. He came bounding over to me...a miracle in those tight black pants. He stopped short in front of me and held out his arms for a hug. I entered it, just to humor him and muttered.

"Peter. Lewis. Kingston. Wentz."


	2. Chapter 2

[chapter two

"Heather. Stephanie. Paisley. Matheson." he mimicked. "You say it like some kind of deathwish. Aren't you happy to visit Petey again?" he asked. I broke away from him.

"Don't ever say that again." I mumbled.

"Awwwwww. But Heathaaa." he said in a baby voice that sounded way too much like he did when he was two.

"It's HEATHER. You're what...seventeen like me now right? Act like it." He pouted. Heatha and Petey were what we called each other back in...day care. He called me Heatha because he had a speech problem and couldn't say Heather. I just said Petey because it was more fun then Peter. He growled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, like he used to when our moms and dads would take pictures of us. There was something comforting about being next to him again, feeling his heartbeat on my back, his arms shielding me from anything I didn't want near me. Not that I liked him or anything, seriously no. Peter is just the brother I never had...or sister as I may have to call him if he's as gay as he looks. His face hasn't changed at all. He still has those big baby brown eyes and soft pink lips. But he got much taller. He's got about six inches on me and I'm pretty tall myself. His hair is the same chestnut brown but with shocks of red all throughout. No I won't even bother denying that he's pretty hot but...with my history with him I won't go after him. Played doctor with him, saw what he's got, it's nothing impressive. (Yes I DO have a sick mind thank you.) I asked my mom for the house keys, grabbed my backpack and made my way into the house.

It was completely empty, with plastic tarps on the floor. The whole house stunk with paint fumes. The people in this house were people who bought houses, fixed them up and then sold them. Most of the rooms were the same color as the outside of the house, and the floors were all dark brown hardwood. I saw a big closet, and a big room suitable for a den, and another for a dining room. Each room led into the other like a track until, the last room, which ended in a staircase. I took the stairs, which were carpeted in black plush. I counted twenty steps. All the doors in the upstairs hall were closed except one, and sunshine poured through the doorway, the only source of light in the hall. I walked curiously towards the door, and saw a room that was remarkably large for such a small house. shockingly, it was about the size of my old room. I dropped my bag in the middle of the floor and turned around slowly, surveying the whole room. It had a bay window surveying the quiet street below, and a nice seat right against the glass, with drawers below the padded seat. I started mumbling to myself about plans for the room.

"I can put nice purple mesh on those windows...a four poster in this corner...a T.V. and stereo will fit there...dresser there...I can finally fit a drum set in my room...great!"

"HEATHER?" I heard my mom call from downstairs. "Heather come down here honey."  
I walked out of the room and down the stairs. "Honey I didn't realize just how empty this house would be. I'm off to get some groceries and some sleeping bags, we'll worry about the big stuff later okay?" She kissed my head and walked out the door. I turned and went back upstairs to further plot out my room. Walking back in, the initial excitement of a new room in a new house had worn off. The sun didn't seem to shine as bright, the space didn't seem as promising for decorating. I guess being the rich girl that I am, has grown me accustomed to so much more...despite my efforts to the contrary. I sighed and went to get a bag to start loading up my closet. I got about half way through the third suitcase (shut up I have a lot of clothes), when I heard the front door open and close. Mom didn't call for me, which I found odd, but I went downstairs to help her anyway. Downstairs, my mom was sitting with her back against the wall, head in her hands. She wasn't crying, she was having more of a dry breakdown I guess. What worried me even more was that it didn't look like she'd bought anything.

"...Mom?" I tested her sanity with the single word. She took a few shuddering breaths at the sound of my voice. Then she spoke.

"My...my credit cards they...were declined and...ugh." she breathed deep again. Before she continued, I knew what she was going to say. But she kept the explanation going. "I went to the bank and they said our accounts were emptied earlier today." I felt as if all of the blood was draining to my bottom half and trying to pull me through the floor. "Your father took everything honey. And I don't know what to do." was all she said, or at least, all I heard. My brain started planning immedietly. It's just how I work, as soon as I'm faced with something, my mind subconsciously works out every detail, and fixes it. I should be studied. My mom met my dad in college, they married after graduation. My mother has honestly never worked a day in her life, and she lives like a stay at home rich mom too. I have no problem going out and waiting tables or something, but my mom...a job? I don't know how she'll handle that.


	3. Chapter 3

_Remember Harbor Boulevard and  
The dreaming days where the mess was made  
Look how all the kids have grown how  
We have changed but we're still the same  
After all that we've been through  
I know we're cool_

[chapter three

That night, I tried to push the thoughts of my father from my mind long enough to fall asleep. Tried to forget all these foreboding feelings that the thoughts of my future gave me. No doubt in my mind we were completely screwed, but exactly how we were going to go down, I couldn't begin to fathom. Half an hour passed of trying to suppress my thoughts and I'd finally found that quiet place between awake and asleep. It became impossible to keep my eyes open, my heartbeat slowed and evened out, and my breathing went quiet. This was my favorite part of the day; the end. Tranquility was all I ever needed, especially after a day like today...TICKCLICKCRACK. My eyes snapped open at the loud sound on the windows. I lay there on the floor (no beds, just a few blankets and pillows) staring at the window where the sound came from, wondering what the hell had just happened. After about thirty seconds, the sound came again, and I saw pebbles bounce off the glass. I crawled, low to the ground, towards the window and looked down to the lawn below. I exhaled in relief to see nothing more than Pete standing below. I opened my window and poked my head out. He beckoned for me to come down and I motioned "one minute". I started plotting how I was going to get from my window to the ground and then I realized what I was wearing. Pajamas. Slutty little short shorts that I wouldn't be caught dead with in public and a huge t-shirt. No makeup, nasty hair...oh shit. All I could do was yank on jeans and sweatshirt and pull my hair into a bun. I heard more pebbles on the window. Makeup? No time. I pulled on my converse and walked back over to the window. Lucky me, the drainpipe runs right next to my window. I sat on the ledge and hooked my legs onto it. I could here Pete whispering "be careful" below me, but the frost made it easy to slide as my body heat melted it. I sped down to the ground and landed on my butt with a quick squeal. Pete ran over and extended his arm. I grabbed it and he pulled me to my feet. I put my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt, and he put his hands in the pockets of his, and we just stood there. I rose onto my toes and went back down every so often to keep blood flowing to my feet. It had to be subfuckingzero out here. Eventually, to my great relief, Pete spoke.

"So how come you're here?" he asked. The relief was gone. Should I tell him what's going on? He never really liked my dad, he wasn't very nice to Pete, thought he was a mindless troublemaker. If I told him what my dad had done, he'd probably go on a murder rampage.

"Um...well...my dad...he...well he...left. And he took everything. Drained the accounts." I said slowly. It's weird how you can almost feel his mood drop without even looking at him. I've known him too long I suppose.

"...fucking motherless bitch..." he whispered. "but...why?"

"My mom caught him cheating." I said. "She went nuts and he just said 'fuck it' and left. This morning my mom's cards got declined. We're both gonna have to get jobs..." Pete laughed.

"Your mom? A Job? No way." he said. I had to smile too. It was going to be pretty hard.

"Well I'll help too." I said. "I have no problem getting a part time job or something..."

"Well I guess it is pretty good in a way that he left." said Pete. I looked up at him, confused. "I mean...because you moved here. Right here."

"Oh." was all I got out.  
"I missed you Heather." he said, much louder than anything else he'd said today. I wanted to say I missed him too, but honestly, I hadn't thought about him since he left. I just nodded and hugged him. "You were all I had, it sucked after we left for this town. I didn't think it'd ever be the same..." Was he really that worked up after losing me? I wondered as his arms released me. "But it's okay now. I suppose. I want you to meet the guys." he said, letting me go. He turned and started walking down the sidewalk. I followed. We walked about ten blocks to a small blue house, no lights on. And why would there be? It was close to two in the morning. Pete walked right into the house's back yard and pulled on the basement storm doors. They swung open, revealing a stone staircase of about seven steps, into a dimly lit basement. I could hear a TV, and two voices.

"YO." Pete called.

"SHHHHH!" Two voices hissed. A tall skinny boy came running to meet us.

"My parents are asleep stupid fuck." he said. The boy had long orangey-brown hair, glasses, and a stud right through his lower lip. He spoke in a voice that didn't seem totally matured yet, but he handed Pete a beer, and then stopped to look at me, tilting his head to the side.

"Uhh. Heather this is Andy. Andy Hurley." I smiled, he nodded. Pete pointed to the boy on the couch. He had short brown hair and was a little bit pudgy in his face. "And this...DAH DAH DA DAHHHHH. TROMANIAC!" he boomed in a deep dramatic voice.  
"Pete! Fucking Bitch! Shut your mouth!" hissed Andy. "Tromaniac" laughed from his spot on the sunken in ripped leather couch.

"Joe is fine." he said to me. Pete rolled his eyes.

"Suit yourself." he said "This is Heather." he said. Joe mimicked Andy's 'hello' nod.

"Heather think fast." I heard Andy from behind me. I turned just in time to catch a can of beer about to collide with my face.

"Sweet catch." laughed Pete.

"Eight years of softball." I said coolly. His eyebrows raised.

"You mean your parents made you keep going after that year in first grade?" asked Pete, a huge mocking smile on his face.

"No...I liked it. I was good at it..." I said. I could feel my face blushing. Pete was laughing at me. But then, Joe laughed a little too. I looked at him, and he was looking intently from me to Pete and back.

"Heather...Matheson?" he said. My eyebrows went up. "The...the girl from those pictures we found at Pete's house...in those photo albums?" Andy's jaw dropped.

"NO." he said. "It CAN'T be...that little kid with the pigtails. The little matching Halloween costumes?" My head snapped over to Pete.

"Are you kidding me with this?" I asked. Pete shrugged and said.  
"My mom kept them! You know how she always is with photos...Patrick found them in a closet like a month ago and I didn't think it'd be a big deal if they looked...Didn't think I'd see you again..."

"So you came for a visit then?" asked Joe.

"Nah, I'm moving here. It's kind of funny...my mom and I moved in right next to Pete." I said.

"Nice." chimed in Andy. "Well, if you need help getting around here just let us know...not that there's much to see..." he added. I cracked open the tab on the cold can in my hands and took a long drain of the amber liquid. I made my best attempt to hide my disgust; I hate beer...but sometimes...I just need it. I spoke.

"So...whose Patrick?" I asked.

"The fourth Musketeer." said Joe. "He's on vacation with his family. Should be back Saturday morning."

"Just in time for school." added Andy, dramatically tilting his can upside-down and into his mouth.

"Winter Break freedom draws to a close boys." said Pete. "Four more days." Everyone sighed. So I was starting eleventh grade on Monday.

Shit.


	4. Chapter 4

_in every circle of friends there's a whore_

_the one who flirts and does a little more_

_but whose to say this is a social scene anyway_

_and everybody wants to explore the new girl_

_caught up in her own hard liquor world_

_but liquor doesn't exist in her world_

_but liquor doesn't exist in her world_

[chapter four

Four days went by remarkably fast. My mom managed to get a job waiting tables at this diner in downtown Wilmette, and she's thinking about going back to school to get a real job. That'll be something to see won't it? My mom didn't say much about me and school, other than that she went to the school and handled all my registration and stuff. I ended up asking Pete for a tour of Wilmette, so I could buy some stuff for school. I got a backpack and some notebooks and pens and figured I'd just figure everything else out later. I was going to be starting Wilmette Junior/Senior High School. It didn't seem like such a big deal...I had Pete and Andy and Joe...yeah things were going to be fine.

Sunday night Pete called.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You ready for tomorrow?"

"I guess."

"Can I give you some warnings?"

"Shoot."

"Steer clear of Paris Hanson and anyone you see with her."

"Why?"  
"Bad news. Simple as that."

"...okay."

"That's basically it."

"That's it?"

"That's all you need to survive."

"Right."

"Right."

"I have something I need more than that."

"What."

"Directions from you to the bus stop."

"I live next door?"

"And"

"So we're walking together?"

"Right"

"Hey, you get to meet Patrick tomorrow."

"Do you think I care?"

"No." There was a silence. I wondered if I should tell Pete what was going on in my head.

"Pete..." why do I always opt to spill my guts?

"Sup."

"I may have a few problems at school tomorrow."

"um..."

"remember those problems I had back in the first grade? That kept landing me in the principle's office?" Pete laughed.

"You were beating up Brian Gomez and Jimmy Duran at recess practically every other day! That was the best..."

"Yeah well...confession time."

"After you left, I beat up Jimmy Duran pretty bad."

"Are you serious?!"

"Broke his arm."

"Shit Heather..."

"My mom took me out of school. She home schooled me because she didn't have to work..."

"You mean to tell me you haven't been in school since first grade, and now you're just starting again in ELEVENTH?"

"Basically..." I tried to make it sound like no big deal. I mean, in theory, it wasn't. It wasn't like I'd NEVER been to school before...just not in ten years. Pete however, was treating this like the end of the world.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Come on Peter is it honestly that big of a deal?"

"...you want the honest truth?"

"of course."

"You're gonna get eaten alive" Dammit.

Monday. I got up at like...four thirty out of sheer nervousness. I paced around my room (which now, conveniently held a sleeping bag and some storage containers. JOY!) I had no idea what to wear I sat on the floor chewing on my hair for close to an hour trying to decide what to wear. Eventually I just did my makeup and figured I'd base my outfit off that. Black eyeliner and blue eye shadow above and below my eyes. It looked okay. I ended up putting on a long sleeved yellow shirt with a blue t-shirt over it, and a generic pair of blue jeans. I actually thought I looked okay.

I sat with Pete on the bus, I didn't know where Andy or Joe, or this Patrick kid were, but I didn't really care. Pete seemed to draw me enough attention. It was weird, it seemed that everyone on the bus was staring at me. Pete sort of shoved me against the window in the bus seat, and put his legs up against the back of the seat in front of us, almost forming a barricade. He kept trying to engage me in conversation, but I kind of ignored him and let my eyes travel between the ceiling and the window and back. It seemed the more Pete talked to me, and the more I answered, the more people stared. The bus stopped again, and three boys boarded. Two of them I recognized as Andy and Joe, who sat down right in front of us, but the third boy was new to me. He wore a blue polo shirt under a grey zip up hoodie, and big baggy jeans. He had thick rimmed glasses and a brown hat. He looked at me, gave me this weird inverted half-smile, and squeezed into the seat with Andy and Joe. He started to talk quietly to Pete. Frankly, I didn't care enough to even try to eavesdrop. I just sat there and let my head bounce against the glass every time the bus shook.

The guys and mystery boy (no one cared to introduce us, but I figured he had to be Patrick)took me to the office to get my schedule. We compared; I had two classes with Andy, one with Joe, and three with Pete and Patrick. That left me two classes completely alone (lunch was number nine, and I had all of them), no one to protect me. This day keeps getting better and better.

First period leaves me alone and with the most boring, annoying teacher ever to walk the earth. English with Mr. Hawthorne is my new most hated subject. He's old, bald, and SPITS. Mental note: sit in the BACK tomorrow. He talks so loudly in a sleepy monotone voice that will definitely kill me if I have to listen to it any more than once a day. The bell rang way too late for my mind and I ran off to second period.

Second and third period I had Pete and Patrick, who I finally got introduced too.

"Oh, Heather this is Patrick." said Pete, as we took desks three in a row for third period History. Patrick turned to me and gave a bigger smile, showing teeth this time. He seemed genuine enough.

"Heather from the photo-" but Pete cut him off.

"Yes. Heather from the photos we've been over that." he said shortly. I think he was embarrassed at some of the outfits and activities those photo albums caught him in. I got to see them, and there froze in history just about every matching Halloween costume, "first time" (such as first lost tooth) and of course, when Pete cried when he got shipped off to kindergarten. My personal favorite is of him sitting in the "my size" pink Barbie convertible with his huge plastic sunglasses and sippy cup. But back to reality. By the time I was done talking with Patrick, and reminiscing in my own mind, third period was over and it was time for me to walk to science, my other alone class. I guess it was good that all my classes by myself were in the morning, get it over with sooner.

Our Science teacher Mrs. Wilson had somehow fallen asleep. I don't know how with this loud crowd of kids. I just sat in the back at one of the lab tables doodling in my notebook. I could hear some of the more hushed conversations containing the words "new girl" and "strange". That stung a bit, but I just kept my head down. Then, my worst fears were realized as I heard a few pairs of footsteps, and chair scrape next to me. I still didn't look up, until a high pitched scratchy voice broke the semi-silence.

"Hi. I'm Paris Morgan." Without even meaning to, a strange moan-grunt escaped me. Exactly the girl Pete warned me about, walked right up to me. This is proof that I don't go looking for trouble, it seriously just finds me. There was silence and I thought maybe she'd get bored with me. But no. "...what's your name?" I picked my head up just to look at her. Exactly what I expected. She had long wavy blonde hair, which was back in a low side ponytail. She wore a pink sweater vest over a pale yellow polo shirt. She had a denim mini skirt and brown boots on. The picture of prep. It sickened me. I went back to my doodling, but spoke.

"My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." I said as dryly as possible. But that didn't stop Paris from laughing like a hyena. And what disturbed me further were the chorus of laughs that erupted from a few directions. My head involuntarily shot up and I discovered I was completely surrounded by Paris clones.

"Oh you are so FUNNY. I absolutely ADORE the Princess Bride. Oh, let me introduce you to the girls." said Paris, noticing me giving them each a glare. "That's Melissa, Alexa, Sara, Jessica, and Bianca."

"Do they all end in A?" I asked. That laugh again.

"Yeah, funny isnt it?" _Not at all._ "So, seriously, what's your name?" I paused, sighed, and spoke.

"I'm Heather." I said.

"Hi Heather." Holy shit they all said it perfectly timed. I looked around at the six girls, I didn't see a timing system or anything, they just appeared to think on one brain.

_I'm in hell. Really, I'm in living hell._


	5. Chapter 5

_I've got the gift of one liners  
And you've got the curse of curves   
And with this gift I compose words  
And the question that comes forward  
Are you perspiring from the irony  
Or sweating to these lyrics  
And this just in  
You're a dead fit  
But my wit won't allow it  
The inside lingo had me at hello  
And we go where the money goes  
The inside lingo had me at hello  
And we go where the money goes  
I want someone provocative and talkative   
But it's so hard when you're shallow as a shower  
And from what I've heard with skin you'll win_

[chapter five

Paris and her clones did eventually go back to their seats when the teacher woke up. She just went right into a boring once-over of the course outline, and everyone sort of just sat there. I went back to my doodling, and after a few minutes I felt yet another pair of eyes on me. _Does it never stop?_ I looked to my right to see a girl, also hunched over her notebook, looking at me out of the side of her eye. She was wearing dark jeans with holes everywhere, and a tight black t-shirt under a denim jacket. She had long scrunchy black hair which was separated from her bangs by a wide satin headband with flowers on it. She had glittery gold eye shadow and blood red lips. She continued to stare, well, more like glare at me so I gave her a friendly smile. To my surprise, she returned the smile warmly, and grabbed her shoulder bag off the floor, moving to the seat next to mine.

"Hi." she said. She had a voice that sounded a lot like Paris's, but not nearly as annoying.

"Hi." I replied.

"You're new?"

"Yeah. Really new. I've kinda been home schooled..."

"Lucky."

"Not really. Imagine having your mom be your teacher for ten years."

"Admit it, it's better than having her." said the girl, nodding her head towards our teacher, who seemed to be nodding off again. "I'm Parker by the way. Parker Morgan." she extended her hand.

"Common name." I said as I shook her hand. She tilted her head at me, confused. I cocked a thumb at Paris and her friends.

"I just met a girl last name Morgan. I guess there's a lot of you?"

"Three of us actually." said Parker. "Her, me, and our brother Perry. But he's in ninth grade." my jaw dropped.

"You two are related?" I asked. She laughed a little.

"I'm marvel at that fact every day." she said, shooting a glare towards her sister. "We're twins actually. Fraternal...very...fraternal." I shrugged. "So I saw you come in with Andy Hurley and his friends today. What's up with that?" she asked.

"It's a funny story actually...long though." I said. Parker shot a glance at our teacher, then at the clock.

"I've got time." so I explained to her the whole thing with Pete and moving. Her eyes got huge and when I finished, she nodded.

"Destiny." she said. "You're meant to be together." I tried to hide my disgust.

"No. No absolutely not." I said. This time Parker shrugged.

"Fine. But I think the stars aligned or something." she said. I just shook my head. "So you know Andy then?"

"Yeah we're tight I guess. I've only known him for like five days."

"Oh...so you don't like him?"

"No...why...do you?!" I asked. She twisted and squirmed in her seat.

"Kinda..." she said.

"Ohmigod!" it all came out in one syllable. "Does he know you?"

"Yeah we're friends kinda I mean...I sit behind him in band class...I actually sit at his lunch table, only he and his friends are at one end and I'm on the other..."

"So talk to him!" I said.

"...they're long tables." she said quietly.

"Scared." I said, disappointed.

"At least I'm not fighting destiny."

"Oh shut up."

"Well, you're welcome to come find me at lunch today...plenty of room." as she said that, she shot another hateful glare at Paris, and immedietly the bell rang.

At lunch I was presented in my mind with only one option for lunch today; sit with Pete, the guys, and Parker. I walked into the loud, crowded cafeteria, and bought a bagel and a Snapple. I saw Pete, but he didn't see me. Neither it seemed did anyone else at the table. However, my name was called.

"HEATHER!" called the high-pitched voice of Paris Morgan. She was standing and waving for me. At the sound of my name, Pete turned and motioned for me to come over. Glancing back at Paris, I discovered they'd all stood up and wanted me to sit with them. For some reason, my brain actually started to pull me towards Paris and the clones. I turned to Pete and walked two fingers across my tray, pointed at me, then pointed at him while mouthing "walk home later?" His eyebrows went down, but he nodded, and I walked over to Paris's table. Paris and Jessica (I think)slid in opposite directions to make room for me, and I sat down. I took the time to notice that I was the only one with food in front of me. Anorexic whores. Even the boys at the table weren't eating. There were four of them, all huge, all wearing some kind of sports jersey or jacket. Paris spoke, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Boys...this is Heather."

"Hi Heather." the boys chorused.

"We're going to be showing her the ropes for the next few days, so everybody be nice and helpful okay!" said another Paris clone (they really need their names sewn across their chests or something, you can't tell them apart!).

"Heather, we're all going back to my house after school for a...study party, want to come?" asked one of the boys. I looked at him. He had long dirty blonde hair that fell into his deep blue eyes. Gorgeous.

"Uh...uhum No...I can't I have...I have to get home, I'm not done unpacking my stuff you know?" he nodded.

"That's Scott." said one of the clones (again with the fucking nametags), she whispered it into my ear. "Don't go near him, he's Paris's ex." she said. I nodded, and took about a third of a forkful of the salad on my tray.

After school I ran to the front gate to meet Pete and the guys. I found them just starting to set off down the sidewalk.

"Guys...Guys wait up!" I called. They turned and saw me, and barely slowed their pace. I caught up and fell into stride between Andy and Joe. No one was talking to me, they all felt wrapped up in their own conversations. I felt unbearably short. I'm used to being tall but the shortest was Joe and he still had three inches on me at least. I felt like a child. No, one was addressing me, they'd been talking to me like I was new to the world since I got here, and I'm short. I pulled on Joe's shirt sleeve.

"Why the silence?" I asked.

"You have no idea who you spent lunch with, do you?" he asked me.

"Paris Morgan?" I said. He rolled his eyes at me.  
"Pete told you to stay away from her. Are you retarded or something?" he asked.

"She seems nice enough." I said. There he went again with the eye rolling.

"That nice girl, dated Patrick. He was one of those jock boys, but didn't want to play football anymore. You can just guess how that went..." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay...maybe you can't."

"Blame ten years of isolation." I said.

"Anyway. Parker, who you met, came to his aid and she got totally shunned too. Her own sister, that's COLD. You gotta be a real bitch to turn your own blood away. We're the outcasts. We don't talk to Paris, or any of her clones. It's nothing but bad news. My advice to you..." he bent down and whispered right in my ear. "Don't become a clone." I stared at him, almost expecting him to laugh, but he was completely serious. I looked at Pete, who had me frozen with a psycho glare. He patted Patrick's shoulder and whistled. Joe looked at Pete, Andy and Patrick, who had quickened their pace, and then looked back at me.

"I gotta go." he said, and ran to catch up with them, leaving me in the dust, in shock. I stood there on the sidewalk for a minute or so, before hooking my thumbs into my backpack straps and setting off again. A horn honked, and a little black convertible pulled up next to me. It was packed, I figured with the "study party" patrons.

"HEY HEATHER!" called the driver, who during lunch I stamped with the name of Melissa (see, I'm getting good at this, no?). "Get in." she said. "We'll give you a ride." I noticed Paris wasn't in the car. Probably has her own. I shrugged, smiled, and climbed into the backseat, between Scott and another unnamed Jock McBigshoulders. Not the most comfortable position. The stank of sweat, cologne, and the perfume of the girls who hung on them all day. Nauseating. Scott was nice though. He talked to me over the roar of the rushing air over our heads.

"So where did you move here from?" he asked.

"St. Paul." I waited for him to respond, but he just spaced. "...Minnesota." Still nothing. "The Minnesota Twins?" I said.

"Oh, yeah, nice town, nice town." he said. Oh he WAS stupid and smelly wasn't he. Nice, but stupid and smelly. I sank down lower in my seat. Middle of January and I was in a convertible in a t-shirt and I was FREEZING. Scott looked down. "Oh, here." he slid his jacket off and put it around me. It was warm from his body, but my new comfort really didn't make it smell any less like rotten eggs. "Oh, it fits nice on you." said Scott jerkily. I smiled, but kept my eyes down for the rest of the ride.

I gave Melissa directions to my house, and they reluctantly let me get out of the car. I walked through my front door and waited for them to drive away. They didn't. I closed the door and they remained there for like five minutes, a closer inspection saw Melissa reapplying lip gloss in the rearview mirror. She capped up the glittery gel and the tires spun and off they went.

Eight o' clock. I had no idea where my mother was, and frankly I didn't care. I just sat in my room and did my homework. Around eight thirty I decided to call Pete and attempt to talk to him. I called like three times and no one answered, and on the fourth try his mom picked up.

"Wentz residence."

"Hey Lydia it's Heather."

"Oh, Hi honey how are you?"

"I'm okay, you?"

"Oh just swell darling. Oh, your mom wanted me to tell you, if you were looking for her, she has her first night school lesson tonight, she should be back by ten or eleven."

"Oh thanks, I wonder, could you put Pete on please?"

"Oh, sorry dear he's not home. He's at band practice with Joe and Andy and Patrick."

"Oh, okay could you have him call me when he gets home? Time doesn't really matter..."

"Sure dear no problem."

"Thanks Lydia, bye."

"Bye Heather dear." I hung up. _Band practice? They didn't tell me there was a band._ Ugh, talking to Pet was what I was looking forward too for sorting this out. I felt truly bad, I'd betrayed my friends for people who seemed nice and wouldn't leave me alone. This pissed me off. Six days here and I'd already fucked up, potentially beyond repair. I don't know why, but my eyes got to watering up. By this point in my life it was automatic; I wandered downstairs to the fridge and pulled open the chill drawer at the bottom. It didn't matter how strapped for cash we were, my mom would always keep her booze in stock. I took a green bottle out, not even looking at the label and took a long sip, letting it sting my throat from the temperature. As soon as the glass rim left my lip and my head leveled out, I started to get dizzy. But it was that good kind of dizzy that only comes in these situations. I swear to god, this stuff is all I'll ever need. I raised the bottle again and finished it, reaching down for another bottle before I even felt the first one go dry. I stumbled backwards as I shut the fridge door, three bottles in the crook of my elbow, and two more in my hands. I practically crawled back upstairs and into my room, collapsing on the floor, head against the side of my mattress. I pretty much just slapped my CD player, hoping I'd hit the play button. Funny enough, I did, and "I Don't Mind if You Forget Me" was what I got. I sat there, breathing hard in a drunken sweat from taking in more alcohol than oxygen.

An hour past of me just sitting there drinking, then rolling the empty bottles between my hands on the floor. My head felt heavy and light at the same time, and the rest of my body, had basically disappeared. I didn't feel anything, I barely heard the Morrissey record spinning in my stereo. Everything was muted, everything was blurry, and god dammit I liked it that way. I lay down on my stomach and played with an almost empty bottle, like a cat. I batted it to one hand, and swatted it back to the other, watching the liquid slosh around inside. My new game kept me interested for I don't know how long, before I realized a phone was ringing. I crawled along the floor and eventually found my blinking ringing phone.

"Hellooooo." I barely slurred.

"Um...Heather?"

"PETE! Pete hi! Why are you calling me so late at night so late."

"It's like nine thirty."

"Oh okay."

"Um...my mom said you called...?"

"Yes. Yes I did. I wanted to say Hellooooo."

"Okay well...hi."

"Hiii." I said. I should mention what a shitty drunk I am. I lose control.

"Heather are you okay?"

"I feel GREAT Peter. Great greatygreatgreat. How are YOU."

"Um, pretty good but um, you honestly don't sound that good should I come over or something...?"  
"No Peter Wentz I am FINE." I said. My vision started getting dark. I knew what came next. "Uhh. Pete I gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Byesies." I hung up, and then I ran into the bathroom and threw up. I waddled back into my room and as soon as I closed the door, I collapsed.


	6. Chapter 6

_I guess it's ok I puked the day away  
I guess it's better you trapped yourself in your own way  
and if you want me back  
you're gonna have to ask  
nicer than that  
nicer than that_

[chapter six

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Sunlight from my windows blinded me and my hands slid across the floor, wanting to make the ringing stop. It made my head throb with every shrill note. my hand finally knocked into the plastic and I put it tenderly to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Heather it's Pete, where the hell are you?"

"Home? Pete what's wrong?"

"It's one thirty."

"Shit. How the fuck are you calling me?"

"It's LUNCH. I'm outside on a payphone. Heather were you drunk last night?"

"Very." I felt my stomach lurch. "Gotta go Pete I'll see you tomorrow bye." I hung up, and began praying to the porcelain god.

"Heather wake up sweetie there are some friends here to pick you up." My mom called down to me. Pick me up? I glanced at my alarm clock and saw six thirty. School didn't start for another hour and a half, and there was me laying in bed with pillow hair in three year old pajamas. I heard a horn honk outside, and I ran towards my window. I saw Melissa's convertible, packed full of the crew from two days before. "Shit." I dove for my clothing and slid jeans and a shirt on, not even paying attention to what I was pulling over my head, just that it was yellow and long sleeved. Ponytail, eyeliner, light green shadow, converse, backpack, down the stairs, out the door. I jumped into the car and sat in the back between Jessica and Bianca. On the other side of Bianca was Sara, Melissa was driving, and Paris was in the front passenger seat. Six of us, and we still had to pick up Alexa. It's a good thing we're all skinny girls because otherwise no one would fit.

"So where were you yesterday Heather?" asked Paris, staring at me in the rearview mirror.

"Headache. I get really bad ones sometimes you know?" I motioned to my temples. Paris made a clearly forced sympathy stare.

"Awww poor baby." she said. I let my back rest against the seat and I watched buildings go by. It was really early, didn't see a point in being at school yet, and just as I thought that thought, we whizzed right past the school, and I wondered if I was being kidnapped.

"Um..." I started.

"Coffee, local place, great stuff." said Jessica.

"Oh." I responded. Great. I absolutely DESPISE coffee. Don't know why, I just never got the taste for it. Stunts your growth and stains your teeth. Eww. Yeah I know what you're thinking "coffee stunts booze kills yeah I KNOW. And I have one thing to say to you logical thinker: FUCK YOU.

We went to the coffee shop. It's a nice little place called "Conner's Corner". Yeah I know, but it's nice. It's run by a bunch of college grads at this hour though. And yes, I drank the coffee. I told Paris that my head was still a bit foggy and she should order for me. I don't' even know what she asked the guy for, but it had at least seven or eight words. She handed me a tall hot cup and yes, I drank it. It was disgusting. Seriously. It took every ounce of every skill I had to not run into the bathroom and barf, and then dump out all the coffee left...preferably on someone's head, for entertainment's sake...oh come on you'd do it too. Anyway at school I ended up surrounded. I saw Pete and the guys, and I saw Parker. They all looked at me like scum. I tried to walk over to them, but it seemed like my newfound friends formed an increasingly tight circle around me. The weirdest thing about this moment was that I knew they didn't exactly mean well but they're damn nice to me. They just want me to be friends with them right? What's the harm in that?

Famous last words.

Social Studies. I actually don't mind it. I'm good with dates and names I guess. I was taking down notes as Mr. Kramer put them on the board. I felt a pen tap my shoulder.

"What." I barely turned my head. A note collided with my head and fell to the floor. I picked it up.

_heather we need to talk. __you __ I need to know what the hell is going on with you. don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm coming to your house at six o clock. I'm bringing Patrick. he knows his way around this subject as I'm sure joe told you yesterday. you better open the fucking door when we show up. _

_XO Peter_

I rolled my eyes and shoved the paper into my pocket. Of course I'd let them in, but I wasn't going to listen to any conspiracy theories they might have about Paris.

Lunch. I sat with Paris and Co. and actually made intelligent conversation with her. She's really really interested in journalism, which I found unexpected, but cool. She seems so much nicer than I expected her to be, so why did I have this lingering guilt? Oh, it could be the glares that I could pretty much feel digging into my back from Petey's playhouse two tables down. Just then, as we got on the topic of our favorite columnist, an open carton of grape juice flew at our table and landed squarely on Paris's boobs. She shrieked and everyone within four feet of her began flooding her with napkins, which she dabbed on her pale pink shirt, but to no avail. She let out another shriek and all the girls raced with her to the bathroom. I, being completely bewildered, stayed where I was, but I looked over to Pete's table, and saw them bent double laughing, Andy's tray missing a drink. I rolled my eyes at them and mouthed "grow up" at them, before going back to my lunch. I looked up again to see Scott looking at me. I laughed.

"I was supposed to go with them wasn't I?" He nodded.

"Probably." he said, leaning back to get a better look at the hallway through the door. I shook my head.

"I need more practice with this." I said.

"Home schooled right?"

"Since first grade."

"Wow. How come?"

"Anger management issues. They fuck everything up."

"Yeah they do."

"You would know?"

"I had to go to therapy a few years ago..."

"Oh...better now then?" He nodded. There was silence, and I just looked at him. He's fucking gorgeous. Perfect blonde hair that just falls into his eyes...those piercing blue eyes...wow.

"Hey...you busy Friday?" he asked. I was shocked.

"Um...I...I don't think so..."

"Want to...I don't know see a movie maybe?"

"Um...yeah, sure." I said. He smiled.  
"Great. I'll pick you up Friday at...seven? My treat."

"Oh, um...okay?" He smiled again. He's got really straight teeth. Shut up brain. Then the bell rang, and I almost took the table down as I stood up.

Six o clock, like mother fucking old faithful the doorbell rang. I opened it and stood aside for Pete and Patrick. They didn't even wait for me, just tramped up to my room. They made themselves comfortable and I sat on the seat by the window. They didn't talk.

"Why are you guys here?"  
"We're trying to help you." said Pete.

"Help me what."

"Help you understand who those people are you're hanging out with." said Patrick.

"Those people are my friends." I said.

"You think they are, don't you." he said.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Yeah, so did I. But the fucking second you do something they don't like, trust me Heather you're GONE." he said.

"Maybe they just never liked you Pat. Maybe you weren't right for them!"

"Yeah but if that was the case, they wouldn't have done what they did!"

"What did they do that could possibly be so fucking bad?"

"That's not important." his voice was hushed.

"Then I don't have any reason to listen to you."

"Heather cut him some slack." interrupted Pete.

"No. How can I believe that my FRIENDS are this bad if he won't even tell me why?"

"They fucking sent an e-mail to the whole school, teachers included that I was a closet homo and I was fucking Pete. And that I cut myself." he mumbled the last part. My heart sank, as well as my stomach.

"Tell me that's not true." I looked at Pete. He was looking down.

"It's half true."

"Um..." I looked back at Pete.

"That came out wrong." said Patrick.

"I'm straight, swear to god but..." he rolled up his sleeves and I saw cuts and old scars.

"Shit..." I said. "When did you do that?"

"ninth grade, into tenth."

"fuck Patrick. why?"

"My parents were getting a divorce and there was this fucking messy custody thing going on and they were both seriously getting to me for when I had to testify for who I wanted to go with. I picked my mom, but we kept getting all these threatening phone calls from my dad's friends. We had to call the cops and everything...it just got stressful..." I just gave him a hug.

"It's okay..." was all I could get out. I'm not good at this whole sensitivity thing. Never was, never will be. He gently pushed me away, and I felt better not having to be the good girl and help.

"Do you get it now?" asked Pete. I thought about it. I did understand why they hated Paris so much, but I didn't understand why they assumed the same thing would happen to me as well. I was being careful, they seemed to like me so much...

"Couldn't you guys just...all be my friends? I can't hang out with...you sometimes and them other times?" Pete's jaw, and neck dropped probably three inches and he stared at me wide-eyed. Patrick sat there and just looked at me like a stone.

"You are on drugs and did not understand a single word that's been said." said Pete, simply.

"You really didn't get any of that did you?" asked Patrick, sounding like he'd lost some kind of war. I wondered why it was such a big deal.

"This isn't such a big deal." mentally, I felt the need to bitchslap myself for that, and of course, I just kept going. "They aren't hurting you, they're just befriending me. And it's not like I'm retarded outsider to them either. Paris, yeah she's into journalism just like me. Can't you just fucking deal with it?" I practically screamed at them. I could feel both their eyes burning into me as my anger rose. For the first time since I finished anger management in ninth grade, I lost it.

"Think we're done here." said Pete. He and Patrick got up and left, shutting the door behind me. I heard their footsteps downstairs, and I heard the front door crash shut. I heard voices, from outside my window, and then I heard Pete's door open and close. As soon as I was sure all those doors were between us, I broke down and cried.


	7. Chapter 7

[chapter seven

I managed to not drink that night after they left. I got so fucking upset though. I ended up letting the Smashing Pumpkins be my booze.

_Shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time  
On a live wire right up off the street  
You and I should meet  
Junebug skipping like a stone  
With the headlights pointed at the dawn  
We were sure wed never see an end to it all  
And I dont even care to shake these zipper blues  
And we dont know  
Just where our bones will rest  
To dust I guess  
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below  
Double cross the vacant and the bored  
Theyre not sure just what we have in the store  
Morphine city slippin dues down to see  
That we dont even care as restless as we are  
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts  
And poured cement, lamented and assured  
To the lights and towns below  
Faster than the speed of sound  
Faster than we thought wed go, beneath the sound of hope  
Justine never knew the rules,  
Hung down with the freaks and the ghouls  
No apologies ever need be made, I know you better than you fake it  
To see that we dont care to shake these zipper blues  
And we dont know just where our bones will rest  
To dust I guess  
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below  
The street heats the urgency of sound  
As you can see theres no one around_

(A/N: YES I KNOW THIS IS THE SONG FROM IT'S NOT A FASHION STATEMENT IT'S A DEATHWISH BUT IT'S GOT GOOD LYRICS THAT FIT BOTH STORIES. DEAL WITH IT.)

They put me to sleep, right there on my bedroom floor, sketchpad at my side, pencil in my hand. I do sketch from time to time, and i'm pretty good at it when i need to be. i used to win local junior art contests, but as i got older the judges got harsher and i stopped winning. eventually i stopped entering, but i kept sketching, mostly when i needed an outlet for anger or depression, like sometimes when i was upstairs listing to my parents screaming at each other, and throwing things around. Both my parents thought it was a waste of time, but at least my mom would get me a sketch pad for my birthday every year. for my tenth birthday, my dad bought me this really nice art kit that i loved. it had like a hundred colored pencils, stamps, ink pads, paper, markers, everything. i took it upstairs and started drawing like crazy. i kept having to sharpen the pencils, and i used up half the markers. i used all the paper and didnt know what else to do, i drew on my walls. i made this huge mural of me and my mom and my dad in a park with huge daisys and tulips...and then my dad came upstairs to see what i was doing. he saw my wall and started screaming like crazy. he picked up the box with all the art stuff in it and threw it in the fire. i cried and cried and my mom screamed at him, told him he ruined my birthday, so he called her a stupid whore, and called me a waste of skin...

i woke up from my nightmare of a flashback in a cold sweat, breathing hard. i hated that dream, but it happened so often, especially since he left. i should probably seek therapy or something but i dont. a glance at my clock saw six thirty AM so i figured i'd wake up for school. jeans, blue t-shirt, orange jacket, ponytail, converse. it doesnt get any easier than that. i went downstairs and made myself some tea, and i was just raising it to my lips when i heard honking outside. Paris. I groaned and dumped the tea down the sink. i grabbed my backpack and ran out the front door, jumping into the little convertable to a chorus of "hello"s. i smiled and engaged in every conversation they started, but i couldnt get pete and patrick out of my head. my eyes kept wandering to paris in the front seat, and my mind wandered to patrick's tale of what she'd done to him, and all of his friends. i wondered who i could trust more; these super friendly girls who i could talk to who all liked me, or five boys and a girl who i barely knew except for pete, who i knew ten years ago and was meeting up agin with now. it seemed like paris was the obvious choice, so why did i feel so guilty?

At school i passed parker in the hallway. i smiled widely at her and waved, but she just glared at me and kept walking. my insides froze as i realized that her glare matched the one she gave paris on my first day. she hated me like she hated them. _i am one of them_ i thought to myself.  
"Hey Heather!" it was Scott. I turned, smile poised on my lips.  
"Hey Scott." i said. He smiled at me.  
"We're still on for tonight, right?" I nodded. He smiled wider.  
"Perfect. I was thinking maybe we could go see that new one with Tom Cruise, Mission Impossible or is it called?" I nodded.  
"That sounds great. Hey if you want, i could buy tickets and you could buy popcorn?" i said. i wanted to be a good date. don't call me a prude for this...but he's the first guy who'se ever asked me out. His face fell.  
"No. No you know how bad that'd make me look?" he asked. I was used to his smile, he looked so damn angry now.  
"Oh...okay forget i said anything." i said. His smile gradually returned.  
"Great. I'll pick you up around...seven." he said. I turned and walked away.

six fifty five. i was standing in front of the mirror in the dining room wondering if what i was wearing was okay. I had this black shirt with puffy sleeves and a V-neck that was short, so it left an inch-wide line of skin between shirt and skirt. my skirt was white and came down to my knees and ended in pleats. my hair was back in a thick white satin headbands with tails that went down to my back. I thought i looked okay. The doorbell rang and my heart lept. I really loked Scott. He was cute, nice, entertaining, and he was really polite, i was hoping this date, my first, went well. I opened the door and saw Scott wearing kakhi pants and a black polo shirt. He handed me a single red rose and stumbled out his words.  
"I would have gotten a dozen but then one of us would have had to sneak into the movie." he said. I laughed.  
"It's pretty." i said and sniffed it. It stunk like pesticide but it was the thought that counted, no?  
"It's cold out here, ready to go?" he asked. I nodded and put my hand in his, which was extended out to me. He opened the car door for me and closed it, before getting into the driver's seat. (SUV, rich parents?)The drive to the theater was silent, and yes, in that akward nothing to say to each other way. I was greatful once i saw the THEATER neon lights and Scott parked the car. I got out, leaving my rose on the seat, and we walked arm-in-arm inside. he bought two tickets, and then we got stuck at the consession line. After about ten minutes the cashier's "next on line" call was directed at us, and Scott ordered. "Um...a jumbo popcorn and...what do you want to drink?" he looked at me.  
"Ah, coke is fine."  
"and a large diet coke." he said.  
"seven fifty." Scott handed him the money and grabed the popcorn and soda. i glanced at the cup and wondered why there was only one. and one straw to boot. he noticed my glance.  
"Oh...i'm sorry would you rather have your own?" he asked, genuine concern barely audiable.  
"Oh...no it's fine..." i said. this was my first date and i had no idea now to act, but was it really that big a deal? My head said no. I just let him take the lead on finding seats after saying "anywhere's fine". we ended up about in the middle, but a little towards the front. He followed me into the row and we took the two isle seats. The lights went down and the previews rolled. i honestly had no iterest in watching a cheesy tom cruise action movie, no less a "mission impossible" one, so i kind of did this thing i rather often do, which involves just putting my brain on autopilot. i still talk and movie etc. but it's kind of half-lived, i'm not really thinking. i let my eyes glaze over and the images on the screen molded and blended together into one big blur. At one point i felt an arm drape across me, and my tourso was pulled closer to Scott. I let my head rest on his shoulder as autopilot continued to make me a mindless zombie. This helped, because before i knew it the lights were up and the movie was over. I stood up, my legs numb from two hours of being bent and stationary and followed Scott back out to his SUV. we drove in silence once more and this time there seemed to be much more tension compressed in the car, or maybe it was just me. I noticed an increasing number of trees pasing us by, getting thicker and closer together, the road became dirt. He made a sharp right and we were in a small dirt lot in the trees. there were several other cars, all dark, in the lot too. i wondered what the hell was going on, but it clicked when he slid closer to me. His finger touched my chin and gently turned my face to his, where his lips akwardly smashed with mine. _shit, does he need to do this?_ i thought. i'd never kissed anyone before, and i didnt know what i was doing, but i just sort of copied his motions, and fell into his rythem, and he didnt seem to notice, or else he didnt care. I kept careful sense of where his hands were; one on my cheek, the other on my knee. i didnt really see anything wrong with that, but as the kissing got harder, faster, the cheek hand was moving down and the knee hand was moving up, pushing my skirt with it. my hand travled to my leg and lifted his hand off, but it found my stomach and the other found my hip. i got both hands involved, trying to keep his at bay, but still kissing for distraction's sake, but he was strong, he pushed mine away and continued at my hips. i wasnt going to let this happen. i finally broke the kiss.  
"Scott no." i said. He kissed me again.  
"No what."  
"I don't wanna go too far, this is a little too much too fast for me okay?" his response was a kiss/pounce that sent me flying against the window. he was basically on me and the autopilot finally shut off. problem was, nothing else kicked in. my head and body kind of went into wet noodle mode, and it didnt help that i could feel his hand under my shirt, under my bra. i got goosebumps at the thought of what he was doing, but my sudden numbness meant that my thoughts were all i knew; not that that was helpful. but what finally broke me was the hand that got started on the zipper of my skirt. that's when i went mission impossible on his ass. my arms hit his shoulders and my foot hit his stomach and i pushed him to the side, back into the drivers seat. he landed on the horn, which went off, causing even more confusion. i fumbled blindly for the handle of the door, and when i found it i pulled hard. i was already against the door so i tumbled to the ground. wasnt there for long, i jumped to my feet and took off, not knowing where i was going, just following tire tracks and then i found sidewalk. i could here scott screaming behind me, but i didnt stop. i knew i couldnt. 

i walked with my arms crossed tight against my body. my mind was back on autopilot, but this time it wasnt to protect me from Mission Impossible, it was to protect me from realizing what just happened. i knew perfectly well, but maybe if i postponed thinking about it, it wouldnt hurt so much when i actually did. i looked up at the street sign, shiny with a coating of frost and shivered as i thought that i had a twenty block walk at ten thirty in what seemed like subzero temperatures. i saw a telephone booth out of the corner of my eye, and the didgets of pete's phone number flashed in my mind. _no. he'd never believe me, if he even picked up the phone._ i realized. i sighed heavily and shook, and kept walking. 

the next morning i woke up with a runny nose and a sore throat. i must have gotten fucking pneumonia out there last night. i got dressed and waited by the front door for Paris, sitting on the heater by the window.  
"God you look terrible." said Jessica when i got in the car.  
"i was out late last night. i guess i caught a cold." i said. Jessica and Bianca, who i was sitting between, seemed to slide away from me. 

there was something taped to my locker. girls were crowded around it and there was something huge taped to it. they all backed away when they saw me, but kept in a clump, whispering. I stood before my locker and discovered a dozen roses before me, and a card, which i read.

_Heather,  
i'm so sorry about last night  
i was wrong and i wish you would have let me  
give you a ride home or something  
i felt terrible so i got you these.  
please give me a second chance?_

XO Scott.


	8. Chapter 8

_i like where we are  
here  
cause our lips can touch  
and our cheeks can brush  
our lips can touch  
here_

[chapter eight

I scanned over his note again and wondered what to do. Up until this very moment, I'd been under the impression that what happened last night was an unforgivable act of taking things too far, but now I wondered if it was really that bad. I was being a bit of a prude.

_But he didn't listen when I said no. _

That nagged in my mind.

_It's expected. You say yes to a date with a guy, you're expected to fuck him._

_But not if you really don't want to._

_You're just a fucking prude princess._

_And he doesn't respect me._

_you don't deserve respect._

I banged my head into my locker to make my argument with myself stop, earning strange glances from the surrounding people. I just smiled and opened my locker.

As if all this attention wasn't bad enough, the roses didn't fit in my locker, and I had to fucking carry them to every class, and have them sit on my desk, which is small anyway. The scent really started to get nauseating after a while too, and a few times I had to ask for a hall pass to hit the bathroom to make sure I didn't vomit. Everywhere I went that day, people stared. It made me feel stupid, but at the same time, I wondered if they weren't making fun of me, just noticing me more...which was a...good thing? The day finally fucking ended and I was at my locker getting my bag. I closed my locker and turned, only to smack right into a large chest.

"Scott." I said, backing away and looking up to see who it was.

"Hey." he responded. Careful as I was to look at anyone but him, it was hard. I could feel his eyes boring into the top of my head. "I see you got my roses." I looked down at the flowers in my arm.

"Yeah um...thank you, they're really pretty." I said.

"Did you read my note?"

"Yeah...yeah I did." this was it. I had to tell him that I quite honestly didn't want to see him anymore.

"Can I take you out on Saturday?" he asked. I looked him straight in the eyes...those deep blue eyes...with the green and black flecks...and the long blond eyelashes...and the hair...

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds great." I said, with a genuine smile.

After school, I called Pete. He actually answered the phone, and didn't hang up when i said it was me.

"Pete, I'd like Patrick's phone number."

"Why do you need that."

"I want to talk to him about something."

"About what."

"None of your business."

"He's my friend. It's all my business."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck _you."_ click. he hung up on me. I dialed his number again. "Tell me what you want with him."

"...fucking fine. I want to talk to him about Paris."

"what?"

"look do I really have to explain?"

"fine. But there's no point. we're going to Joe's for band practice."

"Oh...well...okay..."

"wanna come?"

"Yeah I do." I got excited.

"Joe's garage. twenty minutes. be there."

"will d-" he hung up. I smiled. he wasn't mad at me anymore, he was just pretending to be.

I wandered around the corner onto Joe's street, hands in my pockets, eyes on my sneakers, and I could already hear loud music blasting from his garage. Loud guitars wailing and drums pumping, hurt my ears two houses down. My pace quickened and I jogged into Joe's driveway. The garage door was open and they were all standing there playing away. Patrick and Joe were playing guitars, Pete was on bass, and Andy was in the back smacking his drums with all his might. Patrick, I noticed had a microphone in front of him, as did Pete. _I Didn't know they could sing._ was all that came to mind. and then they started to sing.

" I served out my detention  
And in the end I got an honorable mention  
In the movie of my life, starring you  
Instead of me  
When the moonlight, hits your bright eyes I go blind  
And maybe next time  
I'll remember not to tell you something stupid like I'll never leave your side  
Like the oldest movie I ever saw was the one we wrote together  
I said I hate you but I'd never change a thing  
I can be your John Cusa-" Patrick stopped singing as I started walking closer. I stopped walking as he stared...no...glared at me. He turned instinctively to Pete. "Why's she here?"

"Pete invited me." I said. Joe and Andy glared at Pete as well. Pete held up his hands in defense.  
"She said she needed to talk to you Pat." he said. Patrick rolled his eyes and his glare returned to me.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Can I just fucking TALK to you?" I asked. Again with the eye rolling. He swung his guitar over his shoulder and rested it on a stand, walking out of the garage.

"Let's take a walk." he said, striding onto the sidewalk. I fell into step with him and we walked to the corner in silence. The sounds of the band-minus one guitar and vocals- could be heard behind us. "So, you wanted to talk?" he said.

"Um...yeah. About Paris. And you. And me." He stopped walking really suddenly, and plopped down on the curb. I took a spot next to him, but at a good ten inches away.

"I'm listening."

"okay. Pete is like my brother. I've known him ever since I was...born. seriously we shared a playpen, and I'm sure you've uncovered some photos that he and I would both prefer to be burned." that earned a smile and a laugh from Patrick. "Anyway, I love Pete. He's like the brother I never had. He's the only person who has ever been there for me whenever I needed him, for whatever I needed him for. I hated it when he moved, but I did kind of forget about him. but now that I'm back, and he's in my life again, I don't plan on taking that for granted. you're nice, Joe is nice, Andy is nice, I really like you guys..."

"But you like Paris and her friends too." said Patrick.

"_Exactly._"I said, hoping he was beginning to understand. They're nice to me, I have things in common with them, like Paris and I both want to be journalists, did you know that?" he shook his head. "and maybe I don't know as much as you do about social status, and where you are versus where Paris is, but frankly, I don't fucking care. All I wanna do is be friends with you, AND be friends with Paris. I understand you don't like her, but does that really have to mean that I can't either?" He kept his eye on the pavement.

"That seems pretty obvious." he said. "We didn't really think that way...I mean I guess...I just...you seemed...when Pete said you hadn't been in school since first grade we all figured you'd get swept up in all the wrong stuff, and we just wanted to avoid that...we were just looking out for you, you know?"

"I can take care of myself. Promise." I said. He nodded, and finally looked at me. What I saw really took me aback. I'd never seen him so close up before. I saw green eyes that got gold around the pupils, and smooth pale skin. I never noticed how cute he was before. Somehow he caught me staring.

"What?" he asked. I looked down quickly.

"Nothing." I said. "So...the band, you guys sound good. You've got a nice voice." he laughed.

"Nah we suck. I sound like a strangled moose. the only reason I'm singing is because we all voted I sounded better than Pete."

"Oh and thank god." I said. He laughed again. He has this really cute laugh; he pushes a lot of air out and it ends in a little sound. It made me smile, but I hid it. "I like the lyrics though. You guys might have something. Got a name?"

"Fall Out Boy." he said, without hesitation.

"Fuck that's good..." I said under my breath.

"Yeah that's what everyone else says."

"How'd you come up with that?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Just kind of came to us I guess." I nodded.

"Gonna make a record or...?"

"We've been recording in Pete's basement."

"Cool."

"So we're okay?"

"Yeah." he said quietly. I gave him one more sideways glance.

"Well, they'll miss you. We'd better head back." we stood and walked back in silence. One house away from Joe's the swinging of our arms caused a collision of hands. I felt a brush of warm skin against my frozen flesh, from the winter air outside. I wondered what kept him so warm. Hands brushed once more and I slipped my hands into my pockets, he coughed and followed suit. I sat in on the rest of the rehearsal, but didn't hear much music. I kept glancing at Patrick, diving my concentration between him and the peeling rubber of my sneakers. It seemed that the more often I looked at him, the more times I caught him looking back.


	9. Chapter 9

_Something just isn't right  
I can feel it inside  
The truth isn't far behind me  
You can't deny  
When I turn the lights out  
When I close my eyes  
Reality overcomes me  
I'm living a lie  
When I'm alone  
I feel so much better  
And when I'm around you  
I don't feel  
Together  
It doesn't feel right at all  
Together  
Together we've built a wall  
Together holding hands we'll fall  
Hands we'll fall..._

[chapter nine

Saturday came quite quickly. Maybe it was because everything kind of clicked after my conversation with Patrick. I was accepted back with Pete and them, and Paris and them had no idea, so I was okay with them too. It felt good. I was getting ready for my date with Scott. I was a bit apprehensive, not because I was afraid he'd make a repeat of our first date, but because my mind knew that if he did, I wasn't going to fight it. It made me shiver. Did I really want to lose my virginity to Scott? And on the second date, no less? I thought carefully about my reputation if word got out, and then I realized I didn't have one. I stood sideways and looked at my profile in the mirror. I was wearing a black tank top with lace on the top, a short black skirt, and ankle boots. I pulled the top of the shirt up, and the bottom of it down, trying to cover up more.

"Fuck." I grabbed a pink zip up jacket and pushed my arms through the sleeves, zipping it halfway up. I heard a knock on the door. My mother (who, shockingly was home that night) called upstairs to me.

"Heather sweetie, Scott's here." she shouted in her bubblegum voice. She was so fucking excited about this for some reason. I came downstairs and she started squealing about how nice I looked. I really just wanted to tell her to shut up and go away. To go get drunk or something and leave me alone. I really don't like my mother. I mean, I always preferred her to my dad, but she never really took on the mother role, preferring me to be her little bag carrier rather than her daughter. I blame my fucked-up-ed-ness almost completely on her. She opened the door and there was Scott and the infamous smile. As soon as I saw him I felt sick; sick because I hated him, yet I wanted so badly to go out with him. I had to be losing my mind. My sickness deepened as he held out another single rose. Did he ever get bored of them? I smiled and took it, handing it off to my mom. I couldn't hold it. Scott and I were walking to a carnival at the mall. Just a stupid fair with prizes and games and pretty flashing lights. We walked in awkward silence, his huge hand clutching my cold sweaty one. He wasn't even trying to make conversation this time. I thought I heard him breathe in a few times like he was going to say something, but he didn't. We ended up at the mall, which was flooding with people laughing and smiling. Inside, the mall's main corridor was decorated with strobe lights and streamers. Some stores were closed, iron gates down, but others had turned into attractions. There was a haunted house, a petting zoo, and an old western photograph station. I couldn't help but smile as they played a stupid 80's song over the loudspeaker, barely audible over laughter and shrieks of toddlers and teens. I gasped when I saw this really cute pink pony. It was HUGE. Probably four feet long and two feet tall, with a long rainbow mane and tail.

"that is so pretty!" I said, pointing to the pony. He looked.

"Want it?" he asked. I nodded. He shrugged and walked over to the game. Upon investigation, the pony was won by getting three footballs through a tiny hole in the wall. Five dollars got you five footballs, but it looked like a scam because the balls looked bigger than the hole. I think Scott realized that too. But he heaved the football with all his might, and it bounced off the wall.

"Tough luck." said the fat guy running the booth. With a glare, Scott through the next one. It squeaked right into the hole. I clapped and jumped and another one sailed through. He missed the fourth one, earning chuckles from the fat guy in the peanut gallery, but the final football went right in, and the man shoved the pony in Scott's face, and he handed it to me. I smiled and hugged it. That made Scott smile.

"I don't get a hug like that?" he asked. I hugged him, and balanced on my toes, bestowing a kiss on his cheek. He swung his arm in the small of my back and held me on my toes, pulling my lips to his. It was fast, he didn't lip lock me like last time.

"HEATHER!" I heard Jessica shout. I turned.

"Hey!" I called as she and her boyfriend Mark approached.

"Having fun?" she asked, petting my pony quickly.

"Loads." said Scott, wrapping his arm around my waist. I nodded my agreement.

"Well, we're gonna go get some cotton candy. See you Monday hun." said Jessica and they walked away. I wished they hadn't. Scott had an uncomfortably tight grip on me all of a sudden. "Wanna do the haunted house?" he asked. I nodded, desperate for distraction. We walked onto the short line and were in total darkness in about five minutes. I had a tight grip on Scott's hand. These places always freaked me out. Mall employees jumped at us from coffins and out of dinner platters on tables, and in the "dining room" we had to stick our hands, eyes closed, into bowls of spaghetti, and I think jelly at one point. It was so gross. Outside, I saw Jessica and Mark slipping off into the men's bathroom, Jessica giggling like a drunk hyena. I think Scott saw them too, because he bent down to kiss me. This was the infamous lip lock that I found impossible to escape. His hands traveled down my back to my ass, and I pulled away from him.

"Scott...not here." I whispered.

"Then somewhere more private." he said, taking my hand and tugging it lightly towards the restrooms. My face flushed deep crimson and my whole body went numb. I barely thought about it. I wanted to, but I didn't want to. But of course, I shut down and my feet dragged after him, right into the family restroom.

"Can we go home?" I whispered.

"Already?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah...yeah I'll walk you home."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you." I almost vomited. He walked me home in silence, the worst kind of awkward I'd ever been forced to endure. I kept trying not to cry, or barf, or pass out, I would save all that for when Scott was gone. He walked me to my door, and as I struggled to unlock it, he pulled me into another kiss. He smelled like sweat and the floor of the bathroom, a disgusting combination that sent my stomach churning all over again. The door opened and I slipped inside, closing the door almost in his face. I called out to my mother, no reply, so my sobs came flooding out. I was shrieking in the sheer agony, stumbling up the stairs in my two fucking inch heels. I stripped down and jumped into the shower, not noticing whether the water was hot or cold, or how long I stayed there. I just had to wash his stench off of me. I scrubbed every inch of skin I could reach, once, twice, three times, and unscrewed the cap on the shampoo, pouring the entire contents onto my head, scrubbing it in. The shampoo mixed with snot and tears as my sobbing continued at an alarming pace. I got out of the shower and dried myself off, wandering half alive into my room. I pulled on shorts and a tank top over my sore body and crawled under my covers. I felt so dirty, so violated, so used. He'd been so nice about it, but I felt like I was crawling with filth and I couldn't understand why.

_You're a fucking whore that's why. You slept with him the second time out and he's going to tell everyone you're the new school slut. You're worse than Paris, you're worse than anyone, you're THE worst. You fucked up this time girl. You really fucked up._

About an hour later I was all out of tears and sobs, and I just lay there in my filth, shaking uncontrollably. I was almost asleep, when I heard tapping on my window. I turned and saw Patrick, dangling dangerously from the drainpipe. I ran to the window and opened it slowly, helping him tumble to the floor.

"Patrick what the fuck are you doing at my window."

"I can't sleep and Pete's not home." he said. "I go to his house when I can't sleep, but I went to his window and he's not fucking there so..." he stopped and looked at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look like you've been crying." I shook my head and wiped my cheeks.

"No...no I'm fine...really."

"No. No I've dealt with Parker and her moods over Andy enough times to know. Did something happened with Scott?" I shook my head faster.

"Nothing that wasn't supposed to happen." I said. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"And that means..."

"It means I did what I was supposed to do...I think. It just doesn't feel right. I'm not used to it...never done it before-"

"Done what?" he asked. He slid closer to me. "Heather what did you do?" A sob returned to my throat.

"I let him fuck me in the bathroom that's what I did." I whined. His cheeks flushed a little and his eyes got stuck to the carpet. "Sorry, that was awkward." I said, plopping on my bed, left ankle under right thigh. He shook his head.

"Why'd you do it? You don't seem to like him very much." he asked. I shrugged.

"I thought I was supposed to. I'm new at this remember? Scott's the first guy to ever ask me out to be honest. I thought I was supposed to especially after what happened the..." I stopped. I didn't want to tell Patrick about the first time, when Scott tried to force me. "It just felt so wrong. It still feels wrong. I feel like a whore." I said, tears splashing on my legs. He sat down cautiously on the bed next to me and put an arm gently around me. I closed my eyes at the realization that I much preferred Patrick's arm there to Scott's. I let my head thud onto his shoulder, and he rested his head on mine.

"It'll...I'm sure it'll go away...eventually." he said. I could tell how uncomfortable he was, but it made such a big difference that he was trying for me. I liked having such a good friend just a window tap away.


	10. Chapter 10

_You are a sell out  
But you couldn't even do that right  
So your price tag has been slash  
And now you're chilling on a half priced clearance rack_

The social scene where she gets her fix  
Has been broken since '86  
And just look at that social clique  
Do you really wanna be a part of it?

[chapter ten

Bright sunlight pouring through my open window woke me up. I shot off the bed when I realized I wasn't alone. Patrick was asleep next to me, chest falling and rising in a slow and steady rhythm. I knew nothing had happened, not after the mall with...my brain became lead and my stomach churned. I ran into the bathroom and threw up, remembering last night. The smells, the feelings, everything. I banged my head against the wall, trying to force it from my brain. I wiped my mouth off and went back into my room to wake up Patrick. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Patrick." I whispered. He moaned and rolled over. I rolled my eyes and shook him again. "PATRICK!" I hissed. He pushed my hand away. "Ugh." I walked over to my stereo and skimmed through my CD collection. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. I popped it into my CD player and went for track three. Before pressing play, I turned the volume dial all the way up and stuck my fingers in my ears, pressing play with my toe before ducking for cover (my stereo is fucking loud). "Jellybelly" flooded the room, I felt the floor vibrate with the sound. Patrick shot off the bed and landed hard on the floor. I wrapped the stereo cord around my foot and yanked it out of the wall. Patrick, who was spread-eagled on his stomach, hands over his head, looked sideways at me, breathing hard.

"I want one of those for my birthday." he said. I giggled at him as we both stood up. He yawned and stretched. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Like ten." I replied slowly, his yawning was contagious.

"Shit." he said, though not sounding too worried. I laid back on the floor, staring at the bright white ceiling.

"Thank you Patrick." I whispered. Silence.

"Your welcome." he replied. I looked over at him sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at me, but had to look away.

"I wanna break up with Scott." I said. More silence.

"Why."

"I like someone else."

"Who."

"Someone."

"Okay."

"Should I?"

"Why did you go out with Scott if you didn't like him." I had no quick answer for that. I thought in silence, and he waited for me.

"I was just excited." I said. "I'd never been asked out before, and Scott's cute, and I guess I was afraid no one else would ask me out if I rejected Scott. It's stupid I know but..."

"It's not stupid, I get it." he said. I could tell he meant it. "But I think you took it a bit too far last night, you know? Everyone's gonna know about this." My stomach churned again at the thought.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Seriously. Not to make you worried or anything, but I have a feeling you're gonna get some kind of whore reputation. I mean, I don't blame you..."

"But you think I'm a whore."

"Fuck Heather of course I don't." he said, frustrated. "I'm just trying to fucking warn you okay?" he said.

"Okay, fine. But what about Pete, and Andy, and Joe, and Parker?"

"I'll talk to them." he said.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"I'm glad to have you around."

Patrick did talk to the guys and Parker, and while they're skeptical, they're listening to him. I hung out with them at band practice over the weekend, both days, and Monday I was prepared for anything school had to throw at me. I sat downstairs by the door waiting for Paris's car, but they didn't come at six thirty like I was so used to them doing. I looked at the kitchen clock and saw seven fifteen. Shit. If I started running NOW I might get to the bus stop in time. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my bag and took off. I ran down the block, around the next, down two more, and just saw the bus leave.

"STOP! WAIT!" I cried. I saw Joe in the back of the bus, calling out to the driver to stop, but it didn't. "Fuck." I muttered, trying to catch my breath. I sighed and started running again. Of course, I'm not a runner, so I almost passed out about three blocks from the school, and had to sit down on the curb for a few minutes. I stood up and walked the rest of the way, slugging into my first period class. Mr. Barrett was made sure I didn't slip in unnoticed.  
"Miss Matheson. Where is your late pass?"

"Um, I don't have one. I...I missed the bus." I said, scratching my head.

"Probably missed her period too." I heard a whisper and my eyes scanned the room to see who had spoken. What I realized was that EVERYONE seemed to be whispering to someone else, all eyes on me. I could feel my face flushing. How could my entire class know, when no one I knew was in this class? I an empty desk in the back of the room and just sat there, staring at the cold grey desktop. I heard the whispers around me and it reminded me of my first day here, only this wasn't the kind of innocent curiosity they held for me now; now they were wondering if I really was the whore I was rumored to be. I hated it, I really hated it.

Lunch came and went, I didn't eat, I sat at a table by myself, nothing in front of me except my arms folded against my chest. Paris didn't call for me, neither did Pete or Patrick, I was just allowed to sit. When the bell rang, I bolted up and ran for my locker.  
"HEATHER." my eyes closed.

"Fuck." I muttered as Paris and Co. approached me. I felt fingernails dig into my shoulder and spin me around. I was faced with a furious group of girls. I smiled, my best attempt to get her to, it failed.

"Heard you and Scott had fun on Friday night. Didn't know you two were together." she said. I shrugged.

"Yeah, it's only been like two dates though." he jaw dropped in disgust.

"You WHORE." she shrieked, and before I knew what had happened, she'd smacked me hard across the face. I let my head turn to the side and kept it there, letting her think I was hurt. Truth was, that I really was hurt. My face stung and I could feel blood rushing to my cheek. I didn't even think. My foot flew out and landed square on her stomach, throwing her back. She slid on her back across the floor to gasps and jeers from the surrounding kids. I shrieked and jumped on top of her. She started tearing at my hair and scratching at my face. I flailed my fists and kicked, aiming for her shins and her stomach and her face.

"HEATHER WHAT THE FUCK?!" I heard Pete screaming. I felt two strong hands grab me by the shoulders and lift me off Paris.

"WHORE!" shrieked Paris.

"BITCH!" I screeched.

"SLUT!" she retorted.

"ASSWIPE!" I cried.

Pete threw me on the ground against the lockers and knelt down next to me, looking at my quickly swelling right eye. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he whispered. I shook my head.  
"She started it." I mumbled.

"HEATHER!" I heard Scott call. I barely saw him shove Pete to the ground. "Get away from her, freak." he said. He knelt down next to me, looking at the gouges in my face that Paris's nails had dug. "Baby what happened?" he asked. He took my hand and kissed my fingers. I tried to pull my hand away but I had this mounting headache that made it really hard to move. I could see Patrick bounding over to me. This just kept getting better and better.

"What happened here?" he asked, I think directed at Pete who was still on the floor where Scott had knocked him over. Pete shook his head.

"Fuck off circus rejects I'm trying to tend to my girlfriend here." said Scott. His grip on my hand tightened, squeezing my fingers together.

"She's my friend Jerkoff." said Pete, trying to get closer to me to look at my injuries. I really was wishing someone would just help me up and take me to the nurse.

"Heather? Friends with you? And why would anyone think something so retarded. She's with me." said Scott. He started crushing my hand. I felt something crack and I screamed.

"SCOTT YOU'RE HURTING ME!" I squealed. He looked at me, angry and shocked, and released my hand, letting it fall in my lap. My eyes welled with tears as I felt an overwhelming stinging heat in my pinky. I started to moan in pain and I heard Patrick.

"STUPID SHIT LOOK WHAT YOU DID!" he screamed. Scott rose.

"What'd you call me Stumph?" he asked.

"He called you a fucking dumb shit. What, you deaf too? You fucking broke her hand!" said Pete, getting up and standing next to Patrick. Scott swung a punch at Pete, who ducked and it nailed Patrick in the chest. Patrick fell to the ground, windless wheezing and coughing. Pete started kicking and punching at Scott, who was fighting back just as hard.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a loud voice called from down the hallway. Mr. Barrett, Dr. Matthews, and the phys. ed teacher Mrs. Carlson came bounding down the hallway. We were all screwed, especially if we didn't get landed in detention, because if we don't, that's all the more free time we'll have to kill each other.


	11. Chapter 11, part one

I found you here, now please just stay for a while  
I can move on with you around  
I hand you my mortal life, but will it be forever?  
I'd do anything for a smile, holding you 'til our time is done  
We both know the day will come, but I don't want to leave you

I see my vision burn, I feel my memories fade with time  
But I'm too young to worry  
a melody, a memory, or just one picture

Seize the day or die regretting the time you lost  
It's empty and cold without you here, too many people to ache over

[chapter eleven

PART ONE.

I told my mom I hurt my finger in gym, and she took me to the doctor to have it looked at. Turned out Scott fractured the bone, and now my pinky is stuck in this hot itchy splint for the next five weeks. Joy. I know it was an accident, so I'm really not mad at him or anything. Actually, I really appreciate him now. He was really attentive to me, until he started fighting with Pete. I liked how he cared enough about me to put my arm around his shoulder and help me to the nurse's office. He cared about me, he jus doesn't know his own strength I guess...

Parker was over. She was painting my toenails and telling me about problems she was having with Andy. I was happy to listen, Parker now being my only female companionship, but it seemed she had the same funk over Andy every other day. This time it was...

"I mean, he told me he likes me back, but like, he doesn't DO anything. I gave him a hug yesterday and he put one arm around my back and I could like barely feel it, and he broke away after like half a second to go and talk to Joe. It doesn't make any fucking sense! I mean, he says he likes me, but he's ignoring me and I just..."

"Do you want me to just talk to him?" I asked. Her hand jerked and knocked over the purple nail polish bottle, and she dropped the brush on my foot.

"FUCK! PARKER!" I screamed, lifting up the bottle and setting it upright. I scrambled to the bathroom and tore off about eight feet of toilet paper, ran back into my room and wiped up the puddle of purple. "Shit." I said. The damage was done, I had a huge purple stain on my rug. "What the fuck was that about?" I asked. Parker was just sitting there staring at me.

"I don't want you to talk to him for me." she said. "I don't want anything to happen."

"I thought you liked him." I said.

"I do. But I don't want anyone talking to him for me because he'll know I'm talking about him behind his back and he'll wonder what I said and he'll think it was bad and he'll hate me and-"

"Parker BREATHE." I shouted. She stopped rambling and took a deep breath.

"I get it, I won't talk to Andy I promise." I said. She exhaled.

"Anyway, I gotta get going. Joe invited me to fill in for Pete today at practice. He's sick. Hey, wanna come watch?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Nah I'm feeling kind of tired so...next time." I said. She shrugged and got up.

"See ya around then." she said.

"Oh, hey could you tell Patrick to call me later? I haven't talked to him in like forever." she nodded and waved. I heard her walk down the stairs, and I heard the front door close. I got up, putting a little too much weight on my pinky causing me to scream and fall back down. "Shit." I muttered and shook my hand. "Ow fuck." I got up again, this time using the other hand, and headed downstairs. Food was on my mind. I ended up digging into the chocolate ice cream in the freezer, scooping some into a bowl. "Hmm." I mused; it was missing something. "Ah." I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, pulled the cork out, and splashed some into the bowl over the ice cream, causing it to melt a little. I put the bottle away and stirred up the chocolate a little, then took a bite. _Ice cream is better with booze_ was the thought that filled my head. I didn't even feel guilty about drinking anymore. I'd been doing it since I was fourteen and nothing bad ever happened, so what was a splash of flavor and fizz in ice cream now and then? Finished with that and decided to watch some TV. I found Pulp Fiction on some obscure movie channel and settled on the couch with Uma Thurman and John Travolta. It really was a strange movie. I opted to turn it off after the scene where they had to revive Uma after her overdose. Conveniently, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Heather."

"Oh hey Patrick."

"Parker said I should call you."

"Yeah I'm bored as fuck and haven't talked to you in forever so...yeah."

"Oh."

"So, what's up?"

"Not a whole lot, but we're all joking about replacing Pete with Parker. She's just as good on bass as him, and she's much better on backup vocals."

"Would you really do that to Pete?"  
"Fuck no, we do value our lives you know."

"Ha."

"So...are you feeling better?"

"Yeah! The swelling on my eye is down and everything. Wouldn't have been as bad if you guys didn't attack Scott though."

"Yeah but...wow Pete's kind of GOD right now after taking on Scott."

"That's my boyfriend you're talking about."

"Oh, sorry." Sarcasm.

"It's fine I guess."  
"You don't really like him much, do you."

"He's nice to me."

"He broke your fucking hand."

"He FRACTURED my PINKY."

"Still."

"It was an accident. And he sent me flowers."

"He does that a lot. Does he fuck up that often?"

"...no."

"Well fine."

"Fine."

"But hey..." his voice got quiet.

"Yeah Pat?"

"If you...I mean you don't...but if you wanted to..."

"Out with it Patrick."

"Maybe you might wanna hang out with me sometime." what?

"Like a date?" I could here him swallow.

"Yeah. kind of. I guess."

"Oh...well..."

"I get it."

"Yeah Patrick I'll go out with you."

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah I know."

"Well um...I gotta...I gotta go. I'll talk to you at school tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Bye Patrick."

"Bye." I hung up. Whoa. Did Patrick just ask me out? And did I just say yes?


	12. Chapter 11, part two

[chapter 11

PART TWO

School the next day was weird. People still stared at me from my legendary brush with death (a.k.a. Paris Morgan). Some were really proud of me, but everyone else completely wanted me gone. It probably didn't help that I was hanging out with Paris's previous victims either.

"Heather." I heard Patrick jog up behind me.

"Hey Pat." I said, smiling.

"So um..." he shoved his hands in his pockets. "About...what I said last night um...do you wanna go with me to Paramount Point tonight. There's supposed to be a really pretty meteor shower and something weird happening with Venus or...something and..." I nodded.

"Yeah sure. That sounds cool." I said, genuinely interested. He smiled so wide I thought his teeth stretched to the back of his head. That made me laugh. His crazy baby smile made me laugh. "It's a...date?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Only if you can stand sneaking around Scott." he said, tilting his head and raising one eyebrow.

"I think I can handle it." I said. I kind of wanted to break up with Scott anyway. I really was starting to take a liking to Patrick. I mean, he's sweet, he's cute, he really seems to care about me. Besides, a meteor shower? Fucking romantic. Right?

I couldn't decide what to wear. I mean, skirts were a bad idea because we were going to be sitting on a hill probably in the grass, so I put on my favorite jeans. I opted for a black camisole with a white blouse over it, which I buttoned half way. That looked pretty good actually. I looked at my watch; eight thirty. Patrick didn't say what time he was picking me up, but I imagined it couldn't be much later than now. I wandered down the stairs and sat on the couch sideways, staring at the window, waiting to see a car pull up.

An hour passed and I actually started getting tired. Where was he? It was almost ten. Finally, I saw Andy's big white van pull up, and Patrick got out, walked up to my door, and knocked. I got up, stretched and opened the door.

"It's late dude." I said.

"It doesn't start until 11:13." he said, like that made everything make sense.

"Okay?" I said, following him back to Andy's van. _Why are we in Andy's car?_ I wondered, but that was answered as Patrick got in the passenger seat, and I slid in the back...with Parker, who was all smiles. I looked from her, to Patrick, to Andy, who was driving.

"Hey." said Parker, beaming at me.

"Hi..." I started. "What's going on?" I asked.

"We're on a date." she said. I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh! No not like that just...see, You're on a date with Patrick and I'm..."

"ON A DATE WITH ANDY?!" I asked, smiling too. She nodded, beamed, and got up on her knees. "Oh my god so we're like double dating?" She nodded again. "But...how? When did he...?"

"Today. Patrick told him he was taking you to the meteor shower, but he was nervous as fuck and wanted him to go with him, and to bring a date...and he asked me!" she said.

"That's...Parker that's great." I said. She brought both eyebrows up and back down, and smiled again. I opted to slide to the back of the van and sit in front of the window in the back door, watching the road slip away beneath the wheels. I think I must have fallen asleep, because I remember Parker shaking me. "Heather, we're here. Paramount Point. Come on let's go." she whispered.

"Huh? Oh. Oh okay." I said, sitting up. I've never been very good at staying up late. I normally crash by like ten thirty, it's just something weird with my brain I guess. Anyway we all got out of the car and walked up the hill, where other groups and couples had already set up blankets and picnic baskets. Andy and Patrick unfolded a huge plaid fleece blanket over the grass and I groaned internally as I saw Andy pull a few cans of beer out of his backpack. Part of me didn't want to drink, because then Patrick would see me all boozed up, and I wanted to make myself seem clean around him, so that he only saw the real me. But the addiction forced my cave in like a wrestler ripping paper, and I took the can that Parker offered me. I noticed Patrick took a can too. He didn't strike me as a drinker, surprising.

"Hey look." Andy pointed to the sky, and every head on the hill pointed upwards, as the first streaks of shooting stars took their marks in the heavens. They shot over our heads, some huge, some tiny and distant, all beautiful and bright. The lower, bigger ones even made light across the field, like fireworks. I took my eyes off the sky and looked at Patrick. His eyes were glassy, admiring the beauty above our heads, and every now and then a beam of light lit up his face, and I could see within every shadowed part of him. He was truly handsome, and cute, and everything else I could possibly call him, but didn't want to, in fear of losing the moment. I noticed Parker, who was sitting next to me, slide away from me, closer to Andy. I glanced at her and noticed Andy had wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and was pulling her close. She looked over at me, smiling and biting the side of her lip. I gave her the thumbs up, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They were damn cute. I hoped it would work out. I shifted my attention back to the sky, where I noticed a strange phenomenon, some other people were going "oh" and "wow" because some of the shooting stars had purple and blue and yellow tails. it really was gorgeous, mixing in with the white lights and the pinpricks of the stars. I studied my proximity to Patrick, and after a little quick math in my head, I figured I wouldn't fall if I attempted to lean against him, so I did. I didn't fall, and I felt his arm wrap around my waist.

"Hi." he said.

"Hey."

"You're awful close." he said.

"Sorry. I'm just tired."

"Oh." he leaned back a little by putting the arm that wasn't around my waist behind him, and leaning his weight on that. I pointed my eyes back towards the sky.

"It's really gorgeous isnt it?"

"Yeah..." he looked down at me, and our eyes locked. "Yeah it is." he smiled, and I had to as well.

"Thanks for taking me out here tonight."

"Would Scott have done the same thing?"

"...no."

"I thought not." he said. I tilted the can of beer in my hand upside down and let the last of it pour into my mouth before I spoke again.

"Patrick."

"Mhm?"

"I...I'm gonna break up with Scott."

"Yeah, we went over this, you like someone else, none of my business, whatever."

"It is your business."

"Why?"

"Because I like you." I said. My face flushed a little, and I giggled when I noticed he went pink as well.

"I like you too Heather." he said. I looked up at him, and he was still staring at me, and I wondered what he was thinking, but I didn't have to wonder long, because he lowered his face to mine, and kissed me. I kissed back, tentatively, then eagerly, as I realized that not every kiss felt like Scott's. Scott always smelled like sweat and aftershave, and he was rough with my lips, and always seemed to taste like Winterfresh gum, which I never really liked. I'm a Juicy Fruit girl myself, but off topic. Patrick was different; this kiss tasted like booze, but I imagined I tasted much worse, seeing as I guessed I had more in my system, but he had soft lips, and he was gentle. He smelled like Yankee scented candles, and had a faint air of lawn mower fuel, from rehearsing in Joe's garage, but I liked it. I guess...what? Two minutes passed, and the kiss broke, but we stayed close, so close that I couldn't focus on his face. He did that short laugh that involved forcing out a lot of boozy air, and ending it in that little sound. I went back in for another kiss, this time wanting to think of something other than Scott. I pushed my lips hard against his, and thought hard about Patrick. About how much I liked him, and how I had to assume the fluttering heaviness in my stomach had to be a good thing, and how I suddenly wanted to spend every second with him, and how much I was praying that he felt the same way...satisfied with this kiss, I broke away, placing my head back on his chest. I closed my eyes as I felt his fingers stroking my hair, wrapping it around fingers and letting it go. I smiled, wondering if I'd ever been this happy.

On the ride home, Parker took the front passenger seat (hand in hand with Andy, might I add), because Patrick had to carry me to the van. I fell asleep on him. I woke up halfway to my house, leaning against Patrick, who was humming me a melody I'd never heard before.

"What's that song?" I asked.

"It's a new one I just started working on, after that night I wound up at your house? I call it 'Saturday'."

"Can you sing it for me?"

" I'm good to go and I'm going nowhere fast. It could be worse I could be taking you there with me. I'm good to go but it looks like I'm still on my own. I'm good to go for something golden though the motions I've been going through have failed. and I'm coasting on potential towards a wall at a hundred miles an hour. When I say...Two more weeks, my foot is in the door. I can't sleep in the wake of saturday. Saturday, when these open doors were open ended. Saturday, when these open doors were open ended...and that's all I have so far."

"It's really good." I said.

"Thanks. I was...inspired." he said. I laughed.

"Don't I feel special." I said. I studied his face in silence; pale skin, pink, chubby cheeks, and random pieces of straw colored hair poking down out of his hat. I reached up and started tugging and twirling one of the strands, he smiled at me.

"You're really great, you know that?" he asked, almost as if he was really curious.

"So are you." I said. Then the van stopped.

"Your stop Heather." said Andy. Patrick opened the side door for me and walked me to my door. As I searched in my bag for my keys, I felt him lean down and kiss the top of my head.

"Cut it out Pat." I said, jokingly as I slid the key into the lock. I opened the door and then looked up at him. "I had fun tonight." I said.

"Me too." he agreed.

"We definitely have to do it again."

"Soon." he finished. I laughed. Why did he always make me laugh so much?

"Goodnight Patrick."

"Night Heather." I walked inside and shut the door. As soon as I felt it close, I opened it again. I ran up to Patrick, who was walking down the stairs, and got in front of him.

"Fuck it, one more." I whispered quickly, before standing on my toes and kissing him. He was slightly thrown, but gained his rhythm in an instant, and I could feel him smiling. He slid two hands down my stomach and rested them on my hips, but left them there, right where I was okay, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, and broke the kiss, opting to hug him instead.

"Night Patrick." I whispered in his ear before bounding up the stairs and closing the door. I locked the door and watched through the pane at the top of the door as he got in the van and drove away. As soon as they were out of sight, I sighed, laughed, and slid down the wall to the floor.

The next morning I got a call, pretty early in the morning, probably like nine thirty, from Scott.

"Hello?"

"Hi Heather this is Scott."

"Oh...hey...you."

"The card on the flowers I sent you said call me..."

"Oh, sorry I've been kind of busy."

"With what?"

"Um...just stuff..."

"What kind of stuff."  
"Scott...why does it matter?"

"I'm your boyfriend, I'm supposed to know these things."

"Um...just because we're going out doesn't mean you have to know every fucking thing that's going on Scott..."

"What are you trying to say."

"I think I just said it."

"Really? Because it sounds like your saying you don't trust me, don't want to talk to me."

"Scott that's not true I just..."

"You'd better be careful Heather."

"What?"

"You heard me. I broke your finger didn't I"

"Um...you fractured it yeah but that was just..."

"It wasn't a fucking accident Heather. You were fucking stupid for attacking Paris like that. I don't need that kind of attention, and neither do you."

"You mean you...meant to..." I felt a lump rising in my throat, it made it hard to speak. I was trying to process what he was saying.

"You needed to be taught a lesson."

"Scott what the fuck..."

"So I recommend you listen to me a little bit better. Unless you want more broken bones. Or worse."

"Scott you're scaring me."

"Good. Heather...I love you, but you just step so fucking far out of line sometimes, but I'm here to bring you back, okay? Now, I was thinking we could try that new resteraunt next weekend...The Black Pony? My treat."

"Oh...Scott I don't think I can-"

"Whoa, what was that? I think I just hear something crack." he put a big emphasis on the last word, and I sighed.  
"Yeah...Scott...I'd love to."

"Great. I'll see you Saturday at seven."

"Sounds gre-" click.

Saturday, seven forty five, eating the worst tasting pasta I think I'd ever had. Scott made me let him order for me. I didn't even know what it was. It had some kind of pink sauce that looked like bile, and I swear I was ready to fill the bowl with real bile from just how gross it tasted. But then something caught my eye. I saw Pete, standing in the window of the resteraunt, waving fervently at me. My jaw dropped.

"Something wrong sweetie?" asked Scott, tilting his head at me. I shook my head.

"N...no I just need to go to the bathroom I'll be...right back honey." I said, putting on the most genuine smile I could fake. He nodded, and I ran out of the resteraunt. "Pete what are you doing here?"

"He wanted to see you." he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Patrick came walking out from around the corner. He waved and I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him. He slowly moved me and pushed me against the wall, one hand on my hip, and the other lodged in my hair.

"Here with Scott?" he whispered when I stopped to let him breathe. I nodded and kissed him again. "What happened to breaking up with him?" he asked. I stopped.

"I..." I started. "I...I can't. I can't break up with him I...I'm sorry." I stumbled over all these words that I couldn't bare to say. I had my eyes glued to the sidewalk, but I didn't need to look at him to understand how hurt he was. "Patrick I...I want to be with you but...I can't break up with Scott and I just...can't tell you why...I need to you understand I..."

"I do understand." he mumbled. He moved away from me, releasing me from the wall. I didn't want to be released. I grabbed his wrists and tried to pull him back to me, but he fought me, his voice rising.

"Am I just a make out in Andy's van Heather?" he shouted in my face.

"NO! NO PATRICK YOU'RE NOT. YOU'RE NOT!"  
"WHAT? I'M NOT EVEN THAT GOOD? THEN WHAT THE FUCK WAS I? WHAT'S GOING ON HEATHER? FUCKING TELL ME."

"PATRICK I CAN'T, I FUCKING CAN'T AND..."

"HEATHER!" My heart stopped. A shout that wasn't Patrick's, and it wasn't mine. My head turned slowly to the right, and what I saw almost made me scream. Scott, absolutely livid. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were narrowed, and I could see a vein popping in his neck. "The bathroom?" he uttered in a whisper. "Heather come here I'm taking you home." I shook my head, trying to get closer to Patrick. Pete was looking from Scott to me to Patrick, and then back again. I wished one of them would catch on and just take Scott to the ground, but no such luck. In my horror, I didn't notice Patrick get his wrists out of my grip. Scott walked over to me, grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me to the car, throwing me into the passenger seat. I put my hand on the window and stared at Pete and Patrick as they faded into the distance as Scott sped down the street. I started to cry as Scott started to scream.

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE WHORE. SNEAKING AROUND BEHIND MY BACK THIS WHOLE TIME? YOU'RE GONNA GET IT SLUT. YOU'RE GONNA GET IT." I let out an involuntary sob, and I felt his open hand collide with my stomach. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, and I tried. It wasn't hard, I could barely breathe. One thought flashed in my mind: _am I going to die?_ I was quite sure of what Scott was capable of, but would he actually do it? I couldn't be sure. But I was scared shitless. We pulled up in front of my house, and he wrenched me out of the car, I was sure he'd dislocated my shoulder by now, but I was going numb already, so I wouldn't have noticed. "Open the door." he whispered. Lip trembling, I unlocked the door and he opened it, pushing me through first. "Is anyone home?" he asked. I shook my head in despair, and before I was even done with that, I felt a sharp blow to the side of my face, and as I hit the floor I could taste blood. "Get up." he muttered. I moaned in pain. "GET THE FUCK OFF THE FLOOR BITCH I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!" I put my hands on the ground and tried to lift myself up...but I couldn't. I flopped back down and moaned in pain again. I was already seeing stars, and then I felt his foot collide with my stomach, then again with my hip, and my back. I moaned out like an injured puppy, and coughed. I opened my eyes to see that I'd coughed blood on the floor in front of my face. I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on trying to breathe. It became harder with every second that I needed more oxygen.

"I'm going to leave you now, and let you think about what you've done." I heard him say. All I could think was _Thank fucking god._ I heard his footsteps go towards the door, then I heard the door open and shut. I picked up my head to make sure he was really gone, and then started to crawl my way towards the kitchen. I pulled on the phone's cord and it came down in my hands. I dialed Parker's number, and then dropped the phone on the floor. I heard a faint

"Hello?"

"PARKER!" I screamed, but it came out in more of a squeal.  
"Heather?"

"PARKER HELP!"

"HEATHER ARE YOU OKAY?"

"NO. PARKER THE DOOR'S OPEN, GET PETE, GET EVERYONE...I NEED HELP...HURRY...hurry...please...I'm in the kitchen...please hurry..." everything started to go dark as I barely heard Parker scream.

"HEATHER? HEATHER HOLD ON I'LL BE RIGHT OVER. HEATHER? HEATHER I'M CALLING 911 OKAY? OKAY? HEATHER? HEATHER HOLD ON!" her last words echoed in my head, and I passed. out.


	13. Chapter 12

_Yours is the first face that I saw  
Think I was blind before I met you  
I don't know where I am  
I don't know where I've been  
But I know where I want to go  
So I thought I'd let you know  
That these things take forever  
I especially am slow  
But I realized that I need you  
And I wondered if I could come home  
And you said,  
This is the first day of my life,  
Glad I didn't die before I met you  
But now I don't care I could go anywhere with you  
And I'd probably be happy.  
So if you wanna be with me  
With these things there's no telling  
We just have to wait and see  
Besides maybe this time it's different  
I mean I really think you like me...  
_

[chapter twelve

I woke up in the next morning and didn't know where I was. I saw a lot of white, and I was on something really thick and fluffy. The first thought that came to my head was that I had died, but then my eyes opened all the way, and discovered I was in a hospital wing, with a needle stuck in my arm, and my whole body aching.

"She's awake!" I heard someone scream. Their voice sounded so distant, and I realized why because then the door opened and my mother, Parker, Andy, Pete, Joe and Patrick came stampeding into the room, practically tripping over each other to get to me first. My mother won.

"Oh Heather, sweetie you're alright." she said, running over to me and collapsing on me, her elbow sticking right into my black and blue hip.

"MOM GET OFF!" I cried. She leapt up and I gingerly touched my hip, and side, testing exactly how bruised I was. The pain went from the middle of my thigh clear up to my neck on both sides.

"So, what's wrong with me?" I asked. Parker picked up a clip board from the edge of my bed, flipped through a few pages and started to read.

"Well you've got...massive trauma bruising along ninety four percent of your body the likes usually seen in minor...car crashes...you've got a fractured rib...and a laceration to your thigh, but they glued that up while you were unconscious.

"Fuck." I muttered.

"We all freaked out." said Pete. "Heather you were bleeding everywhere and we could fucking see the bruises through your shirt. You scared us shitless."

"Did Scott seriously do this?" asked Joe. I nodded. I looked around and saw Patrick standing against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

"Guys...Can I...have a minute with Patrick?" I asked. Everyone looked at one another, and then nodded, filing out one by one. Patrick started to follow them, but Joe pushed his shoulder. They got into a whispered argument that involved a lot of Joe pointing at me and nodding, and Patrick eyes darting around at anything but me or Joe, and shaking his head a lot. Every now and then I saw Patrick mouth "I can't" and I saw Joe say "you have to". Finally, Patrick made a break for the door, but Joe beat him to it, running out into the hallway and pressing his body weight against it, holding the doorknob steady. He stuck his tongue out at Patrick through the window, and Patrick put a finger to the window threateningly, but then let it fall, and rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath and sat down on a chair next to me. As soon as Joe saw him sit down, he winked at me and walked away. I saw Andy high-five him. Patrick just sat there in silence, elbows on his knees, rocking back and forth, his lips, tongue, and jaw working in a nervous rhythm. "Patrick..." I started.

"Hmm." he groaned.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be fucking sorry you didn't do anything wrong."

"I should have told you."

"You couldn't. I get it, you were afraid."

"But...I like you, not Scott, and I should have been able to confide this in you...and I couldn't."

"I don't care."

"I'm sorry I made you feel so bad." He let out a spurt of nervous laughter, but it was short lived.

"After you and Scott left I...I just went home. But then...then Andy called me and said that...Parker wanted us all over...that you were in trouble...but I didn't believe him. I thought he was trying to...trick me into calling you. So I said...I was gonna call Joe and try to hang out...but Joe didn't pick up...so I called Peter and...and he wasn't there either...so I called Parker and she wasn't there and I called Andy back and he didn't pick up and no one answered at your house so..." he kept switching from barely speaking a word a second, to rambling so much I couldn't understand him, and I could hear the lump rising in his throat, see his eyes getting wet.

"Patrick..."

"and then I heard someone knocking on the door, and it was Andy and he said 'get in the car' and everyone else was there and I knew he was serious. And Parker said an ambulance took you to the emergency room and you were unconscious and bleeding a lot...and I thought about what I said to you...and all I could think about what would happen if you didn't wake up..."

"Patrick...I'm here. I'm here I'm okay."

"No you're NOT. Look at you."

"I'm fucking alive aren't I?" he nodded.

"Patrick...come here." he looked me up and down before standing up and taking a step closer to my bed. "Sit." I said, and he sat down on the very edge of the side of my bed. "Now come here." I said. He thought for a second, then placed one hand on one side of my bed, and the other hand on the other side, and leaned over me. "I'm here, okay? I'm fine. And I promise I'm not going anywhere."

"I was so fucking worried." he whispered. He kissed me and pressed his cheek to mine, the most contact he cold get without hurting me. Then I saw someone standing behind him. I gasped, and Patrick shot up, turning to face Scott. I saw Pete, Parker, Andy, and Joe standing by the door, Pete was pressed against it, hand on the doorknob. I heard the doorknob twist, but he didn't come in, I guess he was getting ready just in case. Scott spoke in a barely audible whisper.

"I'm gonna bury you Stump. I'm gonna fucking bury you." he said.

"Scott I think you need to leave." said Patrick, in an equally threatening tone that even scared me.

"Sleep with one eye open Stump. ONE. EYE. OPEN." Pete opened the door.

"Scott I really do think you need to leave." he said. They all filed in and stood, arms crossed, Parker holding the door open.

"I'll kill all of you." said Scott, pointing to everyone, everyone except me. That was the scariest part.

"Scott get the fuck out." said Andy. He took one last look at me before walking hurriedly out. My breathing came short fast and loud in terror. Patrick turned and leaned back over me as tears started to drip down my face.

"Heather..." he rubbed his thumb across my cheek, drying it. "It's okay...he can't hurt you. I won't let him. He won't hurt anybody. I promise." I believed him. I felt safer now.


	14. Chapter 13

_And I know it sounds so old  
But cupid got me in a chokehold  
And I'm afraid I might give in  
Towels on the mat my white flag is waving  
We even got a secret handshake  
And she loves the music that my band makes  
I know I'm young but if I had to choose her or the sun  
I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun_

_She's got a smile that would make the most senile  
Annoying old man bite his tongue  
I'm not done  
She's got eyes comparable to sunrise  
And it doesn't stop there  
Man I swear  
She's got porcelain skin of course she's a ten  
And now she's even got her own song  
But moving on  
She's got the cutest laugh I ever heard  
And we can be on the phone for three hours  
Not saying one word  
And I would still cherish every moment  
And when I start to build my future she's the main component  
Call it dumb call it luck call it love or whatever you call it but  
Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like here  
Take a look at my girlfriend  
She's the only one I got  
But not much of a girlfriend  
I never seem to get a lot_

[chapter thirteen

I was released from the hospital two days later, with practically every doctor in there shouting "be careful" warnings at me. I walked out of the hospital myself, didn't need anyone holding me up...well...Patrick was holding my hand, but that was a whole different matter all together. He'd come to visit me after school every day I was stuck here, and he was there to walk me to my mom's car once I got out. I was truly blessed to have him around. We went home, and I wanted Patrick to come inside.

"Sorry Sugar I can't. We've got practice."

"Aww then I wanna go."

"No, no I want you to get some rest. I don't want you getting hurt anymore."

"I don't think I can get hurt at band practice." I said, bouncing on my toes.

"Sugar please? I want you to get better..."

"I AM better. They wouldn't have checked me out of the hospital if I wasn't..."

"I know I know but still, I want you all healed up for me okay?"

"Ugh. Fine. I'll call Parker and see if she wants to come over." he smiled.

"Okay that's good. And tell you what, I'll come by tomorrow night and we can watch a movie?" I nodded.

"Sounds good." I said. He smiled and kissed me once. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye..." I said, watching him walk across my lawn and knock on Pete's door. I walked back into my house and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" that definitely wasn't Parker.

"Um...Hi can I speak to...Parker please?"

"Yeah um...who should I say is calling?"

"...Heather Matheson."

"Oh...hi...hold on." I heard her put down the phone and call. "PARKER."

"YEAH?"

"PHONE."

"WHO IS IT?"

"HEATHER."

"OKAY THANKS." I heard footsteps.

"Hey Heather."

"Hey."

"Well, it seems like both our boyfriends have found something they love more than us."

"Rehearsal."

"Seems like it. So what's up?"  
"Ah I don't know. I'm really bored. Wanna come over or something?"

"Yeah sure. Ten minutes."

"Kay."

"See ya." click. That was awkward. I didn't expect Paris to pick up the phone. Why did she sound so strange?

Parker came over with a pint of ice cream, a bag of chips, and a bottle of soda. Since Parker was over at my house so much, she often compensated by bringing the snacks...not that either one of us wanted to be at her house with Paris there. We went up to my room and started talking and drawing. Turns out Parker likes to sketch too. We sometimes just sat there for hours, just drawing away. We drew each other, the house across the street, bands, furniture from my house, flowers, everything. We kept everything in a drawer in my desk, but it was already starting to overflow with paper coming out of the top. After about three hours of silent sketching, I realized something.  
"Parker...why didn't Paris scream at me slash hang up on me when I called you?" I asked. Silence.

"Um...maybe she realized you aren't so bad and...wants to be bestest buddies with you again?" she suggested. I raised my eyebrow. "Well I tried." she took a deep breath. "Paris...knows about what Scott did to you...everyone does." she whispered her last two words. My stomach dropped.

"Seriously? How?"

"Well naturally when I was at the hospital with you all night, Paris wanted to know where I was...and I figured I was better off giving her the shitty truth than telling her what she wanted to hear. She's ready to murder Scott, and the whole school fucking hates him. He doesn't even stay all day. He comes in for morning attendance and then leaves by like...fourth period."

"I'm scared though. You heard what he said..."

"About burying Patrick? Killing us all? Yeah, he threatened me too in case you didn't notice. That's just the Italian Stallion in him getting a excited and waning to take us down mafia style. Pete's worried too, but he's just blowing smoke...what can he honestly do...oh." I stood up and walked over to my mirror. I lifted up my shirt and examined my torso for the billionth time. I was purple and black from my hips to my chest, barely a spot on me that was the same color as the rest of my skin. My eyes watered just thinking of it. Parker rushed up behind me and pulled my shirt back down, turning me away from the mirror. "Hey...hey it's alright." she cooed, as I started to cry. She sat me down on my bed and sat down next to me, hugging me. "You're okay now. Scott's not gonna hurt you anymore. And he's not gonna hurt me, or Pete, or Andy, or Joe, or Patrick." I smiled at his name. "Aww that's cute." she said.

"What?" I asked, wiping my face.

"How happy you get when you think about him."

"Think about who?"

"Your boooyyyyfrieeeennnd." she drew out the word.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, laughing.

"Oh come on Heather. Tell me, do you loooooooveeee him?" she asked, leaning against me as she asked. We both laughed.  
"Ye-...well...I...but I...I don't...I don't know." I stuttered. Did I love Patrick?

"Well, what have you been telling him all this time?"

"That I liked him the way he liked me."

"Well then I guess you must love him, because he's over the motherfucking moon for you." said Parker, like it was some big history making deal.

"Well then I guess I do." I said, the slightest smile crossing my lips.

"That is so...freaking...cute." said Parker, staring at me like she knew all along.

"You're one to talk, future Mrs. Andy Hurley." I said, mocking her right back.

"Oh shut up." she rolled her eyes at me. "We haven't even kissed yet..."

"You haven't?" I asked, shocked. She nodded.

"The moment just...hasn't happened yet. I mean, he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes, and we go out all the time...but it just hasn't happened yet. But...it will right?"

"It totally will." I said, nodding really fast. "He just wants it to be romantic." she nodded too. She looked at my clock.

"I'm gonna go home. It's late, and you have to get ready to go back to school tomorrow." I rolled my eyes.

"I don't want toooo." I moaned.

"Do any of us?" asked Parker.

"Guess not."

"I'll see you on the bus tomorrow?"

"Yeah, later." I said. She gave me a hug, and then left. At times like this, I was really glad I had Patrick. I mean, had they really not kissed yet?


	15. Chapter 14

_Lying in my bed  
I hear the clock tick  
And think of you  
Caught up in circles  
Confusion is nothing new  
_

[chapter fourteen

That night I had more than enough trouble falling asleep. I told Parker that I was in love with Patrick...but did I mean it? He was my boyfriend, and my best friend, and he seemed so perfect for me. I know I loved having him around. I loved hearing him talk, I loved his kiss, I loved everything about him...but was I ready for "I love you?" I wondered in sleepy silence as I stared at my clock tick away the seconds, then minutes, then hours between me and school. It so didn't help that every position I tried to sleep in, somehow hurt. Finally I drifted off, but it felt like as soon as my eyes closed, my alarm clock buzzed and I shot out of bed. My eyelids tried to force themselves closed again, and I yawned so wide I felt my jaw pop.

"Ow." I muttered. I pulled on jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt and ran downstairs. I wasn't really hungry, so I put two pieces of bread in the toaster, then spread butter on both of them. I grabbed my bag and ate my toast as I walked to the bus stop.

"Heather!" I heard Pete call. I stopped and turn to watch him catch up with me. "Hey. You're coming back already?" he asked as we started walking again.

"Mhm. No point in letting the work mount up is there?"

"No...but people won't leave you alone because Paris..."

"Yeah I know I know, Parker told me."

"Oh...and you can handle it?"

"I guess so. I mean, I have you guys right?"

"Of course." I wrapped my arms around his right arm and rested my head on his shoulder. This, of course, was okay; Pete is pretty much my brother. We've kind of reverted back to that kindergarten friendship we had; we're very immature together. Making stupid jokes, punching arms, the likes of that. It was just fun. Now Patrick was my boyfriend, Parker was my best friend, Pete was my fun friend, Joe was my teddy bear friend, and Andy was my music friend. It all seemed to be working out pretty well, and I liked it. We got to the bus and found a seat together. A stop later Patrick, Joe, and Andy got on, and Pete stood up, letting Patrick sit next to me.

"Hey you." he said, kissing my cheek and putting an arm around my shoulder.

"Morning." I said, leaning against him. Not much talking after that, but I didn't care. I was just content in his arms.

At school, loads of people were staring at me, but not in that way they had been when those whore rumors were going around, in a way that meant they understood why I'd done it, and now the were okay with me. I parted with Patrick for first period.

After first period, I saw Patrick in the hallway. He had a cut on his cheek.

"Hey...are you okay?" I asked, rushing over to him. He shook his head.

"Yeah...yeah I'm fine." he said. Some goon shoved me into some lockers and one of them was open. I'm fine, really."

"Well who did it?" I asked, worried.

"I don't know, but it was some guy I see hanging out with Scott..."

"Oh my GOD Patrick..."

"Sugar, sugar it's fine. He's just trying to freak me out, don't worry about it." he kissed my forehead and the second period bell rang. "Heather we're gonna be late, I'll see you at lunch." and he ran off.

"Bye..." I muttered, confused and worried.

At lunch, I found Parker, Andy, and Pete sitting at a table talking. I sat down.

"Patrick and Joe?" I asked. Andy spoke.

"Um...Patrick fell or something and his knee was hurting him, so Joe helped him to the nurse to get some ice."

"Whoa is he okay?" I asked. Andy nodded.

"He says he's fine, just wanted some ice in case of swelling. I stood up and walked down the hallway to the nurse's office. Halfway there, I saw Joe walking towards me.

"Hey, Joe, where's Patrick?"

"Oh, he's still in the nurse's office icing his knee...he said he was fine and I should just go eat..."

"Is he really okay?"

"Yeah Heather he's fine I swear."

"Okay thanks."

"Welcome...?" I sped off towards the nurse's office. When I got there, I saw Patrick sitting in a chair, not lying on a bed (which was definitely good), holding an ice pack to his knee.

"Hey...you all right?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah sugar I'm fine."

"What happened."  
"Some guys in the hallway felt like tripping me in the hallway."

"Oh...who?"

"Eh, I didn't see who it was but they just yelled" he put on a deep voice "you better watch your back Stump." he started laughing.

"Oh my god...Patrick! They're trying to hurt you!" he shook his head.

"Nah...Heather it's fine. What are they honestly going to do to me on school property?" I shrugged. "They can't hurt me. If you're not afraid of them, they can't hurt you either."

"You're right..." I agreed, but the bruises in my side started to throb when he asked me what they could honestly do.

No more harm came to Patrick that day, and at eight we were sitting on my couch, watching Nightmare Before Christmas on video. No talking, just him leaning against the armrest, and me leaning against him, his fingers running through my hair, my fingernails drumming on his thigh. THUD.

"Did you hear something?" I asked, sitting up.

"No...was it the movie?"

"No...it was coming from like...outside." I said, standing up.

"Sugar I didn't hear anything..." Patrick said, standing up too. I walked over to my front door, and saw a little blue car driving away. I unlocked the door, opened it, and gasped. Patrick walked up behind me and I heard him swallow hard. There was a butcher's knife sticking into my door, with a note stuck under it. I slowly reached out and grabbed the handle. I had to brace my foot against the door to get the knife out. I handed it to Patrick, who took it reluctantly, and started to inspect it. I picked up the note that had fallen to the floor, and read it slowly out loud.

"Tell Stumpy it's almost time." I muttered. His breathing slowed and quieted, and I turned to look at him. He'd gone stark white. "Patrick..." I looked at the knife nervously.

"Okay..." he said. "NOW. I'm nervous."

"Patrick I'm scared."

"Hey...hey..." he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, I buried my face in his chest. "It's okay...it's okay...we're gonna be fine."

"No we're not." I whined, tears starting to soak into his shirt. "They're gonna kill you. They're gonna kill you."

"Shhh. Shhh. No they're not. Hey, it's late, I better get home...I'll see you in school tomorrow okay?"

"No...no don't leave don't..." he let go of me, but I grabbed his arm. "Stay here...stay here tonight...it's safer..." he looked at me carefully, but then shook his head.

"No...no Heather...I'm going home, and tomorrow morning, I'll see you on the bus okay?" I shook my head, but he didn't let me finish before he grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me, hard. When he released me, he spoke quietly. "I love you." he whispered. My heart pounded harder than before, if that was possible. I didn't see it this way, not here, not now, but I went with it.

"...Patrick I love you too." I whispered. He smiled down at me in the darkness before kissing me again.

"Tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay..." I nodded. I felt his hands slip off my shoulders, and he took off down the sidewalk, looking from side to side every now and then. I waited until I saw him turn the corner before I went inside and shut the door. The clock in the dining room said ten thirty and I figured I might as well try to go to sleep. I went upstairs and put on green and black PJ pants and a sweatshirt before rolling into bed. I fell asleep pretty quickly, considering how fast my mind was racing. A few hours later, I awoke to someone hissing my name.

"Heather. HEATHER."

"Mhhmmmhmmah." I moaned, my eyes squinting open. Pete was inches from my face, poking my shoulder.

"Finally, you're awake. Get up, get dressed." he said. He turned around and started going through my closet. He found my duffel bag and started shoving clothes into it.

"Pete...what are you doing?" I mumbled. He pointed to my bag repeatedly.

"Help me with this." he said. He threw the bag at me and I barely caught it in my half awake state. "Get dressed, and fill it. Clothes, makeup, whatever shit you need we are LEAVING." he said.   
"What...why...?" I asked.

"Patrick comes screaming at my window. He needs to come inside, I'm like what the hell? And he's like there's these guys at my door and they don't look happy. We gotta get out of here. So we're all...just going. You, me, Patrick, Andy, Joe, and we're taking Parker too. Oh, that reminds me go call her." I was starting to get it, sort of. I called Parker and told her to get packed. I told her what happened. She said she'd be outside.

"Pete...how does Patrick know that these kids are out there trying to get him?" Pete shook his head.

"He said some of them had knives. And he...he thinks he saw a gun." I started getting really scared.  
"WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY GET A GUN?" I screamed.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW HEATHER! ALL I KNOW IS THAT PATRICK IS OUTSIDE IN THE VAN WITH ANDY, AND WE STILL GOTTA GET PARKER AND JOE BEFORE THEY FIGURE OUT WE'RE LEAVING." he screamed. I got up and started to change. I didn't care at all if he saw me, and he wasn't paying attention. He seemed to be attempting to load the contents of my closet into the bag. "Do you have any money?" he asked.

"Um...I have like three hundred in a box in that drawer, but it's my car slash college slash emergency fund..."

"Well it's the emergency fund." he said, handing me the roll of money, which I pocketed.

"Okay, I'm ready." I said. "Let's go." we ran out of my room, tiptoeing past my mom's room, and tore down the stairs and out the front door. We got into the van, and I found Patrick sitting in the back, I collapsed on him and he held me tight.

"Patrick why didn't you stay with me?"

"They would have come to your house next and god knows what they would have done." I realized he was right, and I kept talking to avoid thinking about just what they would have done to me. We stopped and Joe got into the back of the van. He hugged Patrick.

"You okay dude?" he asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." said Patrick.

"Did they seriously have a gun?"

"One of them had his hand on his thigh, and it looked like a gun sticking out of his pocket."

"Shit dude..." we stopped again and Parker got in. She hugged me and told me things were okay. I guess I must have been crying, but I didn't notice. I heard another car as we started up. Parker heard it too and she looked at me, wondering if we'd heard the same thing. She went over to the back window, and I could practically hear the hair standing up on the back of her neck. She fell backwards and scooted back over to us. Suddenly she screamed.

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" she shrieked. Patrick, like an instinct, leapt on top of me, but covered his head with his arms. Joe went on Parker.

"I GOT HER ANDY!" he shouted, as we could feel the van swerve as Andy turned around. As soon as the van straightened out, I heard a heart crashing bang and I heard glass shatter. Someone had shot at the van. I heard it again, and again, and Parker started to scream.

"FUCKING SHOOTING AT US." screamed Pete from the front seat. I looked up at him and saw his back pressed against the seat, hand on the armrest, knuckles white. Parker was still screaming bloody murder as three more shots fired. That made six, and then it all stopped. Patrick got off of me, and Joe released Parker, and she looked out of the now shattered back window.

"They're gone." she whined before breaking down in tears. Andy kept looking into the back seat, I could tell he wanted to be there to hold her. I went and hugged her, but I'm sure it didn't help because I was crying too.

"Don't worry Parker." said Patrick. "We're getting out of here. We're going far away, they can't get us." she shook her head, and asked the question I think we all wanted answered.

"But where will we go?"


	16. Chapter 15

_Well I felt I couldn't take, another day inside this place  
From silent dreams we never wake, and in this promise that we'll make  
Starless eyes for heaven's sake, but I hear you anyway  
Well I thought I heard you  
Say I like you, we can get out  
We don't have to stay, stay inside this place_

Someday, this day, we kept falling down  
Someday, this day, set the Ferris wheel ablaze  
You left my heart an open wound  
And I love you for  
This day, someday we kept falling down  
One day, this day all we had to keep us safe  
And if we never sleep again, it would never end  
Well I thought I heard you say to me  
We'll go so far, far as we can  
And I just can't stay, one day we'll run away

[chapter fifteen

I didn't really care where we were going, or when, what I cared about was...

"How did they know where we were?" I asked. Everyone looked at one another, shrugging and thinking.

"Oh...shit." said Parker. All eyes turned to her. She raised an arm nervously. "It...might have been my fault."

"What?" asked Pete. "What are you talking about?"

"When Heather called me and told me it was time to go...Paris must have heard me...and told Scott.

"I thought she was on my side." I said. She nodded.

"As psychopathic as this'll sound, she's on your side...not Patrick's." she said, shrugging. Everyone sighed. "Don't blame me." she said, her voice suddenly quiet and cold. "This wouldn't be happening if HEATHER didn't fuck Scott in the first place."

"Oh shut up Parker, no one's blaming anyone." said Joe.

"Well it's true." shot Parker. "If she'd just said no, if she'd never gone out with him he wouldn't be in love with her and he wouldn't be sending the fucking football team after us. If she'd just fucked Patrick instead we'd all be okay!"

"PARKER SHUT THE FUCK UP." shouted Patrick.

"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!" shouted Andy. Everyone turned in shock. That was the first thing he'd said the whole time, and he rarely yelled. But he was yelling now. "YOU ALL NEED TO STOP BITING EACH OTHER'S HEADS OFF AND SOMEONE TELL ME WHERE WE'RE GOING." I looked at Parker, who was looking at Patrick, who was looking at Joe, who was looking at Pete, Who was looking at Andy, who was looking at me. In this staring contest, the car started to slow down, and we stopped. "Or..." he added, banging the steering wheel lightly. "more importantly, how we're getting there, because I'm out of gas."

"Shit."

"fuck"

"god dammit."

"well..." I said. "step on the gas, does it go anywhere?" he did, nothing. Pete spoke as he opened his door.

"Okay, everyone out." we all slowly got out of the van, and got behind it. We all got behind and started to push. With five of us pushing the van, it moved pretty easily and we heard Andy yell out the window.

"MAKE A LEFT. THERE'S AN EXXON STATION." Eventually we got to the gas station and filled up the tank. We all got back into the car and drove off again. Andy repeated his question.

"So where are we going?" we all thought in silence for a few minutes before I got an idea.

"It's about eight hours back to Minneapolis." I said. Everyone looked at me. "We could see if my friend Lacey will let us stay with her for a while."

"That's pretty good." said Joe.

"Okay. Minneapolis then." said Andy. And we rode in relative quiet, Parker and Joe talking in the corner, Patrick and I huddled against the wall, Pete trying to decipher the road map and tell Andy where to turn. We all slept, but Andy woke Pete up when he got to tired to drive, and Pete woke Joe up when he needed to sleep. Patrick was asleep, sitting up, and I was nestled tightly in his side, holding his limp arm around me for warmth and protection. I dozed off for maybe an hour at a time, but every time we hit a bump in the road I woke up, wondering if someone was shooting at our tires or something. I crawled over to the window, and saw countless little blue cars come up behind us, pass us, slow down and lose us, but none of them seemed to be following us. I also saw the sun starting to rise. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I gasped and spun around, but exhaled in relief; it was only Pete.

"You scared me." I said.

"Sorry."

"What's up? Why aren't you asleep?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm worried."  
"Me too."

"About Patrick."

"About you."

"Why are you so worried about me."

"Well, really I just wanted to make sure Parker didn't hurt your feelings. She has this bitchy side that is basically the only thing that lets us know she's related to Paris." I laughed.

"I'm fine. She's scared, just like me. She's just got her back up, it's not a big deal." I said.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Kay good." he said. He smiled and I gave him a hug. He kissed my cheek. "I'm hungry." he said, he turned and stared at everyone sleeping. "ANYONE ELSE HUNGRY?" he shouted. Everyone snapped out of their slumber. Parker raised her hand, so did Patrick, and so did Joe from the driver's seat. Andy didn't, but that was because he'd given Pete the finger and gone back to sleep.

"Food? I want food." said Joe.

"Wanna find a burger king or something?" asked Patrick. Pete and I nodded.

"Burger king?" asked Parker, disgusted.

"It's fast and cheap." I said. She pointed to herself.

"Hi. Vegan." she said.

"Please Parker, do you honestly think it's real meat?" asked Pete, exasperated. I practically fell over laughing at the way he was countering her bitchiness. She glared at him.

"I'll just get the over preserved week old tastes like the cardboard box it's in French toast." she said.

"Good girl." he said, with a smirk on his face.

"You're not exactly being nice either." I said to Pete. He just rolled his eyes at me. We found a rest stop that had a McDonalds instead and we all ate, Parker was oh so reluctant, but eventually bought mini pancakes and an orange juice. Back on the road, Andy took the wheel and announced we'd be in Minnesota within the hour, and back in Minneapolis in probably two at the max. When I saw the sign that said "WELCOME TO MINNEAPOLIS" I told Pete to get in the back so I could sit next to Andy and give him directions to Lacey's house. We pulled into the driveway, and I got nervous. Only Pete knew that I USED to have a lot of money. What would everyone else think? Would they assume I was some kind of rich bitch in remission? Lacey's house was bigger than my old one. Her mom AND dad both worked for this huge company, so they brought in a lot more cash. I walked up to her front door, everyone clumping behind me, and knocked.

"COMING." I could hear Lacey shouting from inside. The door opened, and there stood my former best friend. A huge smile spread across her face She shrieked. "HEATHER!"

"LACEY!" I cried and she hugged me...hard. "Ow...Ow Lacey let go let go." I said. She let go and looked at me, confused. I lifted up my shirt a little bit and she gasped.

"Shit Heather what happened?" she asked. I took a deep breath.

"We're kind of in...trouble." I said. She raised an eyebrow at me. "We need a place to stay so we can regroup, you know?" I asked. Lacey shook her head.

"Girl...my parents are out of town on business...they'll be back Wednesday though. You can stay here the two nights before they get back but after that you and your..." she glanced up at the cluster behind me. Her eyes settled on Pete and she smirked. "friends" she winked at Pete and he looked at the ground, clearly uncomfortable.. "are on your own." I smiled.

"Thanks Lace, that's all we need." I said. She moved out of the doorway.

"Go on in." she sighed. "Guys...you can sleep in my brother's room. You came right on time Heather; he JUST left to go back to college after winter break. And you and her" she motioned to Parker. "Can sleep with me in my room." we all nodded and went back out to the van to get our stuff. We all set up camp on the floors of the two rooms, and spent the rest of the day in Lacey's room, which was much bigger than mine, trying to catch her up on why we were running, and who we were running from.

"Shit..." she muttered, after I explained my bruises to her. "Heather you have gotten in trouble before but this...wow." I stared at the floor as all eyes went on me.

"What kind of trouble?" asked Joe, a smirk crossing his lips.

"Well." said Lacey, her gossipy nature kicking in. "there was this one time with JOEY where."

"LACEY." I shouted, noticing Patrick's head perk up when he heard "joey".

"Anything but that." I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh...well...that was nothing..." she said nervously. Everyone kept staring at me.

"Well." said Parker, sensing the awkwardness. "Nine thirty...I'm tired. Didn't get much sleep in a fast moving bus." she yawned.

"Same here." said Pete. Everyone agreed, and the boys went back to Lacey's brother's room. Lacey, Parker, and I got into our Pajamas, and Parker went back to what she had been doing earlier, admiring the cornrows in Lacey's hair.

"Hey Lace, who did your hair?" she asked.

"Oh, I did it." said Lacey, oh so modestly. Parker's jaw dropped and she got excited.

"Can you do mine?" she asked. Lacey shrugged.

"Sure I guess. But it's gonna hurt." Parker shrugged back. "Here, sit on the bed." Parker did, and Lacey sat behind her, grabbing a bunch of elastics first. She started sectioning off Parker's hair and braiding it. Parker winced and whined occasionally but basically didn't complain. About an hour later, with half a head done, I got really tired, and tired of watching Lacey braid hair.

"Hey guys I'm gonna go downstairs and get some...water." I said. Lacey nodded.

"Yeah sure help yourself hun." she said. I nodded and wandered slowly down the stairs. I poked through her kitchen, trying to remember where the god damn wine rack was. I finally found it in the top of the pantry. As if being around Patrick didn't make me feel short enough, I had to get a chair to reach the wine without knocking the whole thing over. I finally got down a bottle, not caring what it was, and poured some into a glass. I drained it in one swig, but put the glass down fast as I heard someone coming down the stairs, heading right for the kitchen. I struggled to push the cork back into the bottle, and I was halfway back to the pantry before someone spoke.

"What are you doing?" I turned to see Patrick standing in the doorway. I didn't even try to lie, he caught me. I held up the bottle.

"Drinking." I said.

"Alone?" he wondered, getting a glass and taking the bottle from me. I smiled.

"Not anymore I guess." I said as he poured a glass for me as well. I chose not to tell him I'd already had one. We clinked glasses together and drank down. I put both glasses in the sink.

"So...how'd you get in...trouble with Joey? I thought Scott was the first guy to ask you out." I sighed.

"He was. Lacey and I just had this monster crush on him back when we were fourteen, and one night she slept over at my house, and SHE started to wonder if he wore boxers or briefs...so we went on a spy mission to his house to find out...oh stop." Patrick was starting to laugh. "Anyway. I stood on Lacey's shoulder because I weighed less, and I looked into his window...and we found out. I SCREAMED when I saw him though, and he saw me and...called the cops. He saw my face. We didn't get caught or anything but..."

"He never spoke to you again." finished Patrick. I nodded.

"So what was it? Boxers or Briefs?" he asked. I shook my head.

"You know I never did find out." I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. "He'd just gotten out of the shower I assume, because he wasn't wearing anything..." his jaw dropped.

"Ohh to be scarred so at 14..." he said. I laughed.

"So, what was Joey then?" he asked, serious now. I rolled my eyes and slid my arms around his neck, his hand finding their way to my waist.

"Joey was...a Joey." I said simply.

"And that means..." he asked. I took his hat off and tried it on my own head. It was warm and sweaty from him wearing it all day, but it fit me and I glanced cross-eyed up at the brim.

"That means he wasn't you." I said. I ran my hand up his face and into his hair, the back down to his cheek. "Get it?" he nodded, smiled, kissed me softly. The kiss deepened, and I could feel his passion as it gave off heat. His grip tightened around my waist, and I could feel his hand making it's way under my shirt, going up my back. His presence gave me chills, but the chills turned to pain as our bodies pressed together, putting pressure on my bruised stomach. "Ah...Patrick stop." I whispered. He flew off me immedietly.

"Sorry..." he whispered, coming carefully closer.

"Patrick I'm...I want to...with you I want to...but...I can't." he shook his head.

"It's okay, it's okay. I don't think I have a condom on me anyway so whatever." he hugged me again, and buried his face in my neck. I sighed.

"He won't leave me alone. I'm not even dating him anymore, and yet still because of him...I can't be with you. Not to mention he's got the whole fucking football team after us." I mused.

"Okay now that just killed it." said Patrick, lifting his head. I laughed.

"Sorry." I said. He took a minute to examine my whole face, before kissing me once and nuzzling his nose into my cheek.

"I love you." he said in a little four year old's voice.

"I love you too." I said. I places a hand on his cheek and looked at him before kissing him. "I'm going to bed though. I'm really tired okay?" he nodded and took my hand. We walked back upstairs together and said goodnight at the door to Lacey's room, before walking down to where the guys were sleeping. I tiptoed into the room, and stepped carefully over a sleeping Parker. I settled down and had just closed my eyes when I heard Lacey whisper.

"Good water?" she asked.

"Mhm." I said. I heard her laugh, and I fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 16

_Now that I'm losing hope  
And there's nothing else to show  
For all of the days that we spent  
Carried away from home_

Some things I'll never know  
And I had to let them go  
I'm sitting all alone feeling empty

I can feel the pressure  
It's getting closer now  
We're better off without you  
I can feel the pressure  
It's getting closer now  
We're better off without you

[chapter sixteen

I woke up the next morning still wearing Patrick's hat. It confused me, because I could smell him, but I woke up and the room was empty. Even Parker and Lacey were already awake. I didn't realize I was wearing his hat until I rolled over and the brim banged into my pillow. I pulled it off my head and smiled. I could hear voices and glasses downstairs, and I thought I could smell...popcorn? I got up and wandered downstairs, where I found everyone sitting at the table with orange juice and bowls, passing around two bags of microwave popcorn. Patrick smiled at me as I entered the room and I tossed him his hat.

"Breakfast?" I asked, going to get a glass from the kitchen.

"You know I can't cook." said Lacey. "and pizza doesn't deliver this early." I looked at the clock, which only read ten forty six. I sighed and went back into the dining room as the bag of popcorn came to me. I poured some into a bowl and passed it on to Joe.

"So Heather." said Parker. "that water took a long time huh?" my head shot to Patrick as he choked into his cup.

"Yeah Patrick," said Andy, looking from Parker to Patrick to me. "That was quite a piss break." I choked on my popcorn. Smirks were on all faces, and then (shockingly with Lacey in the room), the subject was dropped.

The day passed and not much happened. None of us wanted to leave the house...just in case. Andy had moved the van into Lacey's garage so it wouldn't be seen by...anyone. Patrick and I basically wasted the morning and the early afternoon watching TV on the couch, and apparently abusing the P.D.A, because every time someone walked into the room, they'd roll their eyes and leave. I didn't care. There's nothing I'd rather be doing than watching Saturday Night Live reruns with the love of my life. Can you think of a better Tuesday? I think not. At about four thirty Lacey went out to pick up a pizza for "lunner" as Joe was referring to it as.

"it's too late for lunch, and too early for dinner, so we're having lunner. Deal with it." We all just kind of looked at each other and went with it. Lacey came back with two plain pies and we ate in silence, until I decided to question her about our old friends.

"So Lace, what's happening with everybody?" I asked. She shook her head and shrugged.

"Nothing really...we're all just kind of...NO WAIT!" she said, suddenly excited. "Remember Quinn's band? With Blake and Adam and Craig? They moved out to L.A. a month ago!" I dropped my pizza.

"L.A.?" I asked. She nodded. "Why?"

"Because they figured they'd have a better chance of getting signed out there."

"Have they yet?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Haven't heard from them since they moved. Don't know anything. I guess we'll know once we see the video on MTV though, don't you think?" she tried to keep a straight face, but we both ended up laughing. Quinn's band was terrible. They were called Saturday Evening, and it wasn't the kind of music you could listen to near bedtime, that was for sure. They were some disturbed kids. We went back to eating in silence, but Pete and I got into a kicking fight under the table, just to make the tabletop rock and piss everyone off. Then Lacey brought us back to harsh reality. "Guys...my parents are coming home tomorrow afternoon...I'm sorry but you guys gotta hit the road tomorrow morning." We all looked at each other, worried. We'd all been fearing the world outside for the past two days, even though we were pretty sure there was no way they could have followed us. We lost the back in Wilmette...but where were we going now? We all agreed to sleep on it and make a plan in the morning. At about ten thirty, Parker and I were sitting outside smoking. Yeah, it's a nasty habit I picked up from her, but I mean...I'm not really addicted, I just like it. We were just talking about random matters of the band, where were going next, and how we were going to keep ourselves alive. We came up completely empty. Eventually we put out the cigarettes and went inside to sit with Patrick and Andy. They were deeply involved in some conversation that involved paper and pens, but looked up and smiled when they saw us. Andy patted his knee and Parker draped her legs across his lap. I followed suit with Patrick, but he scrunched up his nose at me.

"Sugar were you smoking again?" he asked. I rolled my eyes at him. "Aww come on baby you know I hate it when you do that. It's gonna kill you and it smells so bad...you're hard to kiss." I sighed.

"I'll go brush my teeth then huh?" I asked, standing up. I went upstairs, and from in one of the rooms I could hear a strange thumping noise. It wasn't really loud, but it was fast, then slow, then it stopped, then it was fast again. I figured there was some kind of animal outside and I brushed my teeth and went back downstairs. I found Parker standing, a few feet from the couch, and Patrick and Andy sitting on the very edge. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Ask them. I'm not sure I like the idea." said Parker. Andy rolled his eyes and Patrick sighed.

"We pitched her idea of where we could go." said Andy. They exchanged glances, and I moved towards Parker.

"Go on." she said. Patrick spoke.

"We wanna go to L.A." he said. My jaw dropped. "Like your friend's band did. It sounds like a good idea." I closed my mouth. Out loud, it sounded pretty okay.

"Think about it Parker." said Andy. "We'd be working on the band, you guys could get jobs too..." he said. Parker shook her head.

"Who's gonna hire two teenage girls with no high school diploma? I mean, forget college grads, they at least want kids with proof they got their schooling." Andy shook her head, and I gave it a try.

"Parker I like the idea." I started. She glared at me. "I mean...it makes sense...and I mean we could find work...it's fucking L.A...there's lots of stuff to do...and then..." I smiled at her. "When these four get famous...we can kick back, living the glamour lives as rock star wives." I added. Parker's eyes lit up, like I knew they would, and her scowl went neutral.

"Just..." she started out nervously. "Just for...a few months. A year at the max." Patrick, Andy and I all smiled. Andy nodded.

"L.A. Then." he said.

"L.A." Patrick and I said at the same time. Parker stayed silent, but then mumbled.

"This better work." she and I decided to go upstairs and go to sleep. Wandering upstairs, I heard a weird moaning sound that seemed to be coming from Lacey's room. Parker tapped my arm, meaning she heard it too. We got to the room and pressed our ears close to the door. I could hear Lacey...and I could here Pete. My eyes got wide, and Parker's jaw dropped, but she was smiling uncontrollably.

"Are they..." I asked.

"I think so!" she whispered. Carefully and slowly, she moved her head so she could see through the crack in the slightly open door. She very quickly turned and slammed against the wall. "Yeah...yeah they are." she said, bending over, laughing hysterically. I pointed towards the stairs.

"I think we should..."

"I agree." said Parker, and we went tearing down the stairs. Patrick and Andy, who were still working out details on the couch, looked up at us, standing and trying to control our laughter.

"What's up" asked Patrick.

"We can't go to bed." said Parker. Patrick's eyebrow went up.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because Pete's in the room."

"So tell him to leave."

"We can't."

"...why not?"

"...Because he's with Lacey." I said. Patrick and Andy both sighed.

"Not again." said Andy. I raised an eyebrow.

"Pete gets around." said Patrick. I shook my head. "Are we talking about the same Pete who practically broke my arm while screaming 'punch buggy red'?" I asked. Andy nodded.

"He's pretty good at getting girls in bed." said Andy.

"I thought most of the school hated you guys."

"I never said they went to our school. Mostly out of town girls and new kids. Frankly, we were shocked he didn't go after you." said Patrick. I stuck a finger down my throat before screaming.

"as IF!" Andy slammed his back against the couch. "I would not." I said, shaking my head.

"That's a new reaction." said Andy. Parker was still laughing. Just then, we heard a door open, footsteps in the hallway, coming down the stairs. We all stared at each other before Patrick got an idea.

"Play dead." he whispered. Parker and I jumped on the respective boyfriends and pretended to be asleep. With my eyes cracked open, I saw Pete come downstairs in pajama pants looking very sweaty and breathing hard. He went into the kitchen, I heard glasses clinking, and I heard running water. About a minute later he wandered back upstairs, and I exhaled. We all started laughing. Looking back now it wasn't that funny, but we were all tired and bored and that was the most exciting thing to happen in the house in the past two days. We said goodnight to the boys and went upstairs to bed. The lights were off, but we could see Lacey sleeping and the bed was a mess. I scrunched my nose and looked at Parker. The room stunk like sex and sweat. She went into her bag and pulled out perfume, spraying it at random points in the room.

"That's better." she whispered, and we both went to sleep.

Next morning we were all out of bed at seven thirty, packing everything up in the van, re counting our cash, and marking out a route on the map.

"So we'll take this through South Dakota...to Wyoming...through Utah...to Arizona...to California. And if we're really tired by the time we get to Arizona we stop for the night." Everyone nodded as we stood around Andy, who was using a pencil to show us where we were going, well mainly to show Pete and Joe and Patrick where we were going, because they didn't trust me or Parker enough to put us on the driving shift list. "This is going to be probably a fifteen hour drive, and if there's traffic...blah. So are we ready?" everyone nodded and Parker and I went to say goodbye to Lacey. She got really sad and hugged me. "Bye Heather."  
"I'll come by again, I promise." I said. She let me go and turned to Parker. Parker ran her hand over the cornrows in her hair.

"Thanks for the braids." she said. Lacey shook her head.

"No problem." and they hugged. We all walked outside and got into the van, which Pete was currently starting up. I saw Lacey blow Pete a kiss, and he blushed deep crimson. That set Parker and I off laughing hysterically. We drove off and we all settled into the silence we were in before. My fear returned to my brain as I looked at the back window of the van, which had a huge hole in it, sharp glass lining the side. Patrick caught me looking at it, and pulled me close to him.

"It's okay. There's no way they followed us." he said. He rocked me gently side to side, and my tiredness from a late night and early morning caused me to fall asleep. When I awoke, I was shocked to find that the sun had almost gone down. Parker was sleeping on Andy, Pete was laying back in the shotgun seat, Joe was driving, and Patrick was still holding me, staring at the ceiling.

"Where are we?" I asked. He looked down quickly, not realizing I was awake.

"Oh, we're in...Utah I think, or maybe we crossed into Arizona. I don't remember."

"We're in Arizona." mumbled the barely awake Pete.

"Kay." I yawned. My stomach started to rumble.

"Guy's I'm hungry.

"We stopped for lunch like five hours ago, we couldn't wake you up." said Joe.

"I'm hungry too." said Andy. I jumped, I thought he was asleep.

"I could go for a Denny's." said Pete.  
"Okay fine." said Joe. "Wake Parker up, I see a sign for one." we pulled into the parking lot and went inside. The diner was nice and warm, unlike the van which was cold from air blowing the busted window. We sat down and a waiter took our orders. For lack of an endless flow of cash, we just got a big salad, two burgers, a lot of French fries, and some chicken wings, figuring we could just all share. We sat talking for about ten minutes, before I saw the door open. My heart stopped and I went completely cold. There they were; twelve of them...and I almost laughed when I saw they were all wearing black suits. I felt Patrick's hand grab my hand, resting on my thigh.

"Shit they have UNIFORMS." he said. All eyes turned towards the door as one more boy walked in. I saw him talking to another football boy, and while I could hear him, I definitely saw his lips say "van" and "outside".

"They know we're here." I said.

"Shit." muttered Joe. "Look everybody just keep your heads down. We'll eat fast, and go. Besides, they'll leave when they don't notice us. Just don't. Look. Up." he said. Patrick was squeezing my hand tight, and I could feel his palm going slippery with sweat. I ran my thumb soothingly against the back of his hand and his grip relaxed a little bit. I kept my head down, but stared at the group of thirteen Wilmette High football players surveying the resteraunt. Then, it happened. One of them pointed...right at me.

"Shit guys they see me. They see me." I said, forgetting to keep my head and voice down.

"THERE THEY ARE!" I heard someone yell.

"FUCK." screamed Pete.

"Time to go." added Parker, leaping out of her chair. We all followed her. Joe took down a few chairs, Andy jumped onto, and ran across a table, and I smashed right into our waiter who was coming with our food. I didn't even apologize, I just kept running, because I knew they weren't far behind. I don't know why, but with all the confusion of getting back into the van, somehow Parker ended up in the driver seat.

"JOE GIVE ME THE KEYS!" she shrieked.

"PARKER YOU CAN'T DRIVE THIS THING!" said Andy, who had scooted into the shotgun seat.

"I CAN NOW ANDY NOW GIVE ME THE FUCKIN KEYS!" she screamed. Joe threw them too her and she jammed a key into the ignition. She floored the gas pedal and we sped off. I scurried to the back of the van and looked for the little blue car. Instead, we were being stalked by a big black SUV.

"They've upgraded." I said. Pete came up behind me.

"Shit. Guy's they've gotten a faster car. Parker STEP ON IT!" he shouted.

"I AM!" She shrieked. I moved right up behind her seat, and we both gasped as 'road closed' signs started appearing. She swallowed hard, then looked left to right. On either side was just desert.

"Um...hold on guys." she said, and made a hard left turn. The van bounced and wobbled as we went off road over rocks, cactus, and god knows what else. Parker screamed as we heard more god damn gun shots. She was swerving and turning like crazy, and she shrieked again as we suddenly barreled right through a wire fence. "Not good." Andy and Joe chorused.

"PARKER SPEED IT UP!" shouted Pete. I looked back and saw just how close the SUV was.

"MY FOOT'S ABOUT TO GO THROUGH THE FUCKING FLOOR PETE. THIS THING ISNT GOING ANY FASTER!" Parker shrieked indignantly. Up ahead, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things, but the ground seemed to drop away.

"Parker do you see that?" I asked.

"YEAH HEATHER I SEE IT." she yelled back. Andy leaned forward and saw it too.

"PARKER STOP!" he shouted.

"No...I have an idea."

"PARKER YOU'RE GONNA KILL US!" shouted Pete.

"HAVE A LITTLE FAITH WENTZ!" she shouted. "EVERYBODY HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!" she shrieked. I braced myself against the seat, and I felt Patrick grab onto me. Pete was latching himself to the handles in the ceiling. I saw Parker mouth 'one. two. three" and she took her foot off the gas, slammed on her brakes and turn right. We spun out of control, but stopped quickly. We all gazed out the windshield as the SUV didn't turn in time. They turned and braked and spun, but too close to the edge. Half the car was teetering on the edge, and we all watched...as it tumbled...and went over the edge. We all leapt out of the car and stood close to the edge, watching the SUV fall at least fifty feet. It landed hard on a ledge jutting out of the cliff wall, and we all winced. It rolled off the ledge and plummeted probably another fifty or sixty feet to the bottom of the gorge below. I felt heat on my face as flames and a roar came almost all the way up the wall before flying back down. The engine must have exploded. I was numb with shock, and I barely saw Parker collapse to her knees, face in her hands. Andy knelt down next to her and hugged her.

"Parker, baby you did great, that was fantastic I swear." he was trying to calm her down.

"They're dead they're dead." she was whimpering in protest. He took her hands away from her face and held her chin.

"It's gonna be okay now. We're all safe now." he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her. I gasped, and couldn't help but smile. He let her go and she stopped sobbing. Andy was right; we were safe now.


	18. Chapter 17

_You could save yourself,  
you could save us all,  
Go on living, prove us wrong,  
Your leap of faith,  
Could be a well - timed smile,  
Survival never goes out of style_

You have to learn to learn from your mistakes,  
You can afford to lose a little face,  
The things you break,  
Some can't be replaced,  
A simple rule: every day be sure you wake

[chapter seventeen

It took a long time of standing there by the cliff for Parker to be able to stand up, and even then it was with Andy holding her up. He went into the back of the van with her, sat down, and let her rest her head on his thighs. Patrick and I sat opposite them, Joe took shotgun, and Pete started driving.

"I think we should stop for the night." said Andy, glancing down at Parker, who had fallen asleep. Everyone agreed, and we found a cheap hotel within about ten minutes. Andy tried to carry Parker into the room without waking her up, but her eyes open as he put her down on one of the beds. She looked around.

"Taking me to a motel already? You dirty boy." she said with a sleepy smile on her face. He laughed.

"Not so much...we're all sleeping here." he said, cocking his head towards the rest of us. Parker's eyebrows furrowed.

"But I'm not tired." she said.

"Well, baby we are." said Andy.

"So? I'll drive."   
"NO!" we all chorused at the same time. Seriously, all of us. She laughed. Pate sat on the floor, leaning against the other bed. He grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels.

"Let's see if the magic flying SUV o' flame made the news." he said.

"Not likely." I said. We were in the middle of nowhere.

"Correction." said Joe, looking out the window. "We ARE in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but desert and a gas station out there." he added, plopping down next to me and Patrick on the bed. Pete finally found a news channel just as they were finishing up some story about a local dog kennel who was mistreating it's dogs. Sad, what some people do to other living creatures. It sucks. The camera went back to the anchorman and anchorwoman at their desk and the woman spoke.

"We bring you now live to a teen tragedy outside Chicago tonight where a popular boy, captain of the football team took his life tonight in the most grotesque fashion." Parker sat up.  
"They better not mean Wilmette." she said. But oh it was. The camera flashed to a blonde field reporter with a microphone, standing in a street in the dark. I didn't know what time it was in Arizona at that moment, but I figured it had to be probably three AM in Wilmette. She spoke as she got her cue.  
"Thank you Monica I'm here tonight in Wilmette Illinois where a teenage boy took his life tonight in a fashion I've never seen before. The boy stood on his rooftop and fastened a rope around the gutter, tying the other end to his neck. He then SHOT himself in the MOUTH TWICE, and as he lost consciousness from the pain and blood loss, his body fell, and the noose tightened around him, crushing his windpipe. The boy's family has asked that his name not be released to the press just yet, but you can see behind me, while the body has been removed the noose still remains tied to the gutter for the crime scene investigators, and you can see the blood on the roof and exterior walls." the camera zoomed in on the house and my jaw dropped.

"Guys...that's Scott's house." I said.

"He has a brother." said Joe, but it was more of a question.  
"Nope." I said. We all sat there in shocked silence.

"Fourteen kids from our school are dead. And six of them, us, are probably being reported missing."

"Twenty tragedies." said Andy.

"Guys..." said Pete from the floor.

"Yeah?" asked Patrick.  
"...I wanna go home." his voice was quiet, and it sounded like he was holding back tears. We all looked around, and no one could think of a reason to protest.


	19. Chapter 18

_i speak in hugs & kisses_

_because true love never misses_

_i will lead or follow_

_to be with you tomorrow_

_all i need is everything you are_

_complete and If you ever fall_

_ill be standing in the shadow of my heart_

_there's nothing you could ever say boy_

_to make me wanna walk away_

_and as long as you are mine_

_i will remind myself that this love is real_

[chapter eighteen

Waking up the next morning, there was very little conversation between us. There was lots of eyes locking, and lots of nodding. It was like we'd all become experts at reading minds, or at least, I had; because it was so easy to know what was running through everyone's mind; going home. Why were we going home? We felt guilty, like all of this was somehow to be blamed on us, even though it seemed an impossible situation to blame on anyone. Deep down I felt really bad. This all seemed to somehow lead back to me; I went out with Scott, I fucked Scott, I fell for Patrick, I let Scott walk all over me and threaten me, and then I made out with Patrick ON A DATE with Scott. Basically it all leads back to me being a total slut. I went from virgin who'd never had a date to whore in...three weeks? How retarded do you have to be before you're me? Pete, Andy, Joe, Patrick, and now Parker were drawing straws for drawing shifts in the corner, and I just watched them, curled up against the headboard pretending to be asleep. From what I could hear, Patrick got the first hour. We checked out of the motel and got into the van. I sat with my knees tucked to my chest, my hands inside the sleeves of my sweatshirt, in the back corner on the van. I wasn't sure, but something was poking my butt and I imagined it had to be broken glass. We started driving, still no one saying a word to me, or anyone else when it was avoidable. I almost felt like screaming, just to hear the sound because this was driving me insane. I noticed Parker staring at me from her position: leaning against the back of the driver's chair. She finally crawled over and sat next to me.

"What's eating you?" she asked. I looked at her, eyes wide. How could she not understand?  
"This is all my fucking fault." I mumbled, trying to pull my knees closer to me. She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes, and plopped her head on my shoulder.

"Kid, you're out of your mind. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I went out with...and I fell for...and I cheated on...and I ran with..." I ranted. She had to put her hand over my mouth to get me to shut up.

"Basically you entered into very basic high school drama, the likes of which I've seen a billion times in the past four years. You didn't really do anything wrong, this is all Scott's fault. He took things too far."

"I'm actually beginning to think this might be my mother's fault...you know for having me? Or my dad's fault for...helping her have me. If it wasn't with my dad I would have been different, you know?" I was desperate to not listen to her for some reason. Logic was the last thing I needed. What I needed was someone to hold me and kiss me and tell me I was right, but this was all over.

"Scott had problems Heather." Parker said, her tone getting worried. "He took them out on you and that was wrong. You need to understand that you did what you could to keep yourself and all of us safe. And now we are. Scott's gone, and I'm pretty sure he sent everyone he had on this little manhunt...fuck, Heather how do you think I feel? If you really lay it out, I kind of killed them! God dammit Heather come on chill out okay?" she started whimpering a little.

"Can I just...have some time...to myself?" I asked. She nodded, and went over to sit with Andy. I watched her take a position lying across his lap looking up at him, him smiling down at her and running his fingers through her hair. It made me ache to have an hour go by and have it be Pete's turn to drive, so I could have Patrick with me. I decided to lay down and try to sleep a little, to pass the time.

I woke up laying on my side, and I could feel someone behind me, an arm wrapped around my waist. I turned around and saw Patrick, eyes half closed and glazed over. I wrapped my arms around him so our bodies pressed together. He was warm and his breathing was rhythmic and a little ragged as he half-slept. I slid upwards a little bit so our faces were even, and bestowed the smallest of kisses on his lips. His eyes opened and he smiled.

"Hi." I said.

"Hi." he mumbled back.

"Sleepy?" I asked, as he seemed to have trouble keeping his eyelids apart. He nodded.

"I didn't sleep well last night. Too many thoughts...too many...how are you feeling?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Fine I guess." I said slowly. He nodded.

"Mind going as fast as mine is?"

"Probably faster."

"Doubt it."

"Don't underestimate me Stump." he laughed. "Pissed you couldn't go to L.A.?" he shook his head.

"Nah...there'll be other times. Like after high school, after college, maybe a time when we're actually signed...and actually have our instruments...or money for new ones." I laughed when I realized what a stupid choice going to L.A. would have been. "Besides." he started, eyes locking on mine, voice getting serious. "I've been more concerned lately about my future...with you." he said. My eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. He did that stupid short laugh again.

"I...I..." he took a deep breath. "Heather I love you. I mean I really really love you. I've never felt like this about anyone ANYONE before ever. And...I'm starting to have these dreams and these thoughts that are making me...making me able to see me spending...the rest of my life with you." he seemed to be having a lot of trouble getting the words out, but at his last words, my heart started pounding.

"Really?" I asked.

"Heather I want to spend every day like I've spent the past four. Not...running from a psycho football team I mean, but spending every day with you, all day every day. Talking to you...holding you...watching you sleep...there's no one I'd rather live that kind of life with than you. And I'm not talking about getting married necessarily, at least not yet with school and college and everything and...I need to stop talking I'm freaking you ou-" I stopped him with another soft kiss, but I let this one grow and it spoke for me. Probably a minute passed and we parted for air. "...Oh...okay." he said. I laughed. He hugged me tight, which, three days ago would have hurt a lot, but now my bruises were almost gone, and it only throbbed a little bit as his arm pressed into my side. He seemed to notice my lack of crying out in pain.

"They're gone?" he asked.

"Pretty much." I answered.

"That's good."

"For both of us." I said, kissing him again.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well...now next time something happens like in Lacey's kitchen..." I kissed him again and could feel the heat from him blushing. "we won't have to stop, will we?" I asked.

"Guess not..." he said, a smirk beginning to play on his lips. It forced a giggle out of me, but it ended quickly.

"Um...just wondering guys, don't take this the wrong way," said Pete from the shotgun seat, sounding very annoyed. "but are you at all aware that we can all hear you?" Patrick snorted with laughter and I giggled silently and uncontrollably, my head collapsing into his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, the other around the back of my head, keeping me tight to him.

"I love you." I said, but it was muffled against his t-shirt.

"I love you too." he said, kissing the top of my head.

The drive went by really quickly. I guess that was because we weren't anticipating anything anymore. We weren't afraid of anything. Joe and I got into a fierce game of Go Fish, Pete and I played slaps and it got brutal (I'm going to have pink hands for a week, I'm terrible and Pete is damn good). Then later, on another one of Patrick's driving shifts, Parker came over to talk to me.

"Hey." she said, sitting down across from me.

"Hi." I smiled back. She sat there for a second, staring past me and biting her tongue.

"Can I ask you a question?" I nodded.

"Yeah sure." she smiled.

"I...was a bit hysterical so I don't really remember what happened last night...but...did Andy um...and I well..." she started going pink and getting nervous.

"Did Andy kiss you?" I helped her.

"Yeah that." she said, smiling. I smirked at her and nodded. Her eyes got wide and she started squealing like an overexcited kindergartener. She hugged me tightly and I hugged back, a bit surprised she was going so crazy.

"Parker you ask like this is your first boyfriend." I said.

"He's my first Andy." she replied, releasing me. My face softened.

"Aww that is so cute." I said.

"I've never liked anyone like this before..."she said, nervously pulling her sleeves over her hands. "I want what you and Patrick have, you know?" I nodded. "He's just been so shy and he actually kissed me and...what should I do now? He hasn't kissed me since! What if he regrets it!"

"PARKER BREATHE." I said as she began yet another famous Parker Morgan rant. "Look, he's probably just...shy okay?"

"But how do I know that?" she asked. I thought hard.

"Test it." I said finally. She raised an eyebrow.

"Come again?" she said.

"Don't wait for him to kiss you, go kiss him and see what happens." I said. She opened her mouth to object, but then closed it again, thinking hard.

"I like the thoughts you think." she said. She went over to Andy and snuggled down next to him, sitting against the back of the shotgun seat. He wrapped his arms around her and she placed her head on his shoulder. I could see their mouths moving in a slight conversation, and I watched as Parker let Andy talk. She let him go on, and she bit her lip before bouncing up and locking lips. Even I was nervous to see what he did. To my joy (and obviously Parker's) I watched Andy's hand travel up Parker's back and his fingers tangled in her hair. Parker got up on her knees for a better angle, and things started getting intense. I looked for an escape, something to do other than watch. Patrick was still driving, Pete was sitting shotgun, and Joe was napping in the corner. I went up to the front of the van and tried to decide if I could somehow become small enough to fit in the little space between the shotgun seat and the dashboard. I decided to give it a try. I put my foot between Pete's legs and climbed over him, squishing down in front of him, facing Patrick sideways. Pete looked backwards, and then down at me, then down at his legs.

"Um...hi?" he said.

"Hi." I responded, in a totally level "nothing just happened" voice. He just rolled his eyes and his head went back to it's position in his hand, staring out the window as the trees and road went by. Patrick was laughing as silently as possible.

"Hey guys we just passed into Minnesota." said Pete. I didn't really care. I didn't have anything to fear there, and every person I'd want to see from Wilmette were in this van with me. My mother, yeah she was there but I don't care about her. It's not like I've seen her either in the past two weeks; me being gone for four days probably won't kill her.

Oh how wrong I was.

We pulled up in front of my house.

"Patrick, wanna come inside? I doubt my mom's home and I don't wanna be alone." I said. He shrugged and nodded as Andy dropped us off at my house. I got out my keys and unlocked the door, to find out it was already open. "Oh...I guess she is home." I said, confused. She SHOULD be at school right now...

"Should I..." he pointed to Pete's house.

"No, no it's fine she knows about you." I responded. We walked inside. Immedietly I was overtaken by the stench of vodka and vomit. "Shit she's drunk." I muttered. And by the smell of it, she'd been drunk for days.

"...mom?" I cautioned. No answer. I looked nervously at Patrick. We went from room to room until we ended up in the living room. There was my mother in pajamas. Her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed...or washed in days, she had mascara stains running down her cheeks, and not one, not two, but FOUR empty bottles of Vodka were littering the table.

"Your mom's an alcoholic?" he asked. I nodded.

"We both are. She just doesn't know about either of them."

"You've...got a problem?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I have a problem, I know I have a problem, I like my problem. It feels good." I had no problem admitting that. He gave me a scornful look and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I don't get you Heather. Smoking from Parker, drinking from...your mother apparently..." he started.

"Shut up before she wakes up." I said even though there was no chance of that. I started walking upstairs and Patrick followed me, but I heard a raspy voice and had to stop dead.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" it said. My mother was awake. Patrick and I turned back to her simultaneously. She was sitting up, and making her best attempt at pulling herself off the couch. She kept pulling her ass up, then plopping back down.

"Upstairs mom." I said. I knew her drunk attitude; best bet was to just answer her questions short and simple, no mental processing for her.

"Where've you been? Four days? Worried..." her voice was slowing down and I could see her eyes trying to close.

"Mom I'll explain it when you're sob- feeling better." I said. Patrick was inching closer to me, I could tell he was nervous. But then she started yelling.

"NO." she roared, actually standing up this time. She wobbled a little on her feet but regained herself. "HEATHER STEPHANIE PAISLEY MATHESON, I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR FOUR DAYS. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD." she said. She actually started walking towards me. I didn't move, but Patrick backed up a little. I grabbed his hand so he couldn't go far. Or maybe it was to calm myself down, I couldn't really tell in that moment. She came right up to me and shook a finger in my face. My head went backwards at the rancid smell of booze and sick, that I'd tasted from my own mouth enough times, you're just never used to smelling it on your own mother. Her voice got quiet and threatening. "You listen to me young lady. You are fucking grounded, and you'll be lucky if I ever let you come down the god damn stairs again." she said. I nodded.

"Yes maim." I said. I didn't think she would hurt me or anything, I just wanted to comply because I knew Patrick wanted to get the hell out as soon as possible. I knew what he was thinking now: I never really talked about my home life or my parents, just because it never came up. But now I knew he was thinking I came from this broken home full of booze and swearing and yelling. He was basically right, except for the fact that my mom doesn't get drunk all that often. It's just really really bad when she does. Other times she's downright peachy. But now...with four bottles on the floor...this couldn't end well.

"Get your no good ass upstairs." she said. She turned to Patrick, who was looking nervously from me to her. "What're you lookin at?" she asked.

"Nothing." he said. It almost annoyed me how freaked out he was.

"Good. Then get the fuck out." she said. Patrick wasted no time. He squeezed my hand once before taking off. She turned her attention back to me. "Now get." she said. I turned and walked upstairs as quickly as possible, without actually giving her the satisfaction of watching me run. I dropped my bag on the floor and hurled myself onto my bed, sobbing before I even hit the mattress. Later that night, I would hear my mother take six tries to get up the stairs, vomit and cough in the bathroom for 20 minutes, crash and stumble into her room, and moan in terror in her drunken slumber. And all I could think of was _home sweet motherfucking home._


	20. Chapter 19

_I made a fatal mistake letting her drink again  
Well who the hell am I to tell her how to live her life?  
__  
__'Cause baby girl's a queen  
And a queen is just a pawn with a bunch of fancy moves  
And she's made me a fiend  
I won't be withdrawed 'cause I got nothing to lose_

Oh no,  
She's at the bottom of that bottle  
She's only one more swallow  
From being, you know, so hollow  
Bravo, she's at the bottom of that bottle  
She's only one more swallow  
From being, you know, so hollow

[chapter nineteen

The next morning I woke up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. I figured it had to be coming from some other house nearby, because my mother does not cook. I put on a sweatshirt and walked down the stairs. I could hear pots clanking.

"Mom?" I called groggily.

"Morning sweetie." I heard a shockingly not hung over voice answer from the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and found her bent over the stove, sliding a spatula underneath a pancake.

"Are you making...breakfast mom?" I asked. She looked up with a smile.

"Mhm." she said. Have a seat." I sat down at a stool that sat around the little island table in the middle of the kitchen and watched as she loaded two big pancakes onto my plate and poured syrup over them. I looked from the plate, to my mother, back down to the plate. I poked them carefully with my knife, making sure they didn't spontaneously combust...or crawl off the plate. When nothing happened but a little sliding syrup, I cut a piece off and put it in my mouth.

"These taste...good mom." I said. "I didn't know you cooked." She nodded.

"Made them from scratch too." she said, nodding her head towards the counter, where milk, eggs, and other ingredients, as well as a cookbook were sitting.

"Why the sudden Emeril possession mom?" I asked. She laughed.

"Oh honey I just feel bad about last night. Sweetie I was so worried about you...and you know how I get sometimes when I'm upset..."

"You get drunk." I mumbled. She chose to ignore my remark.

"And when I woke up this morning, I realized why you left. When I saw Scott on the news...honey I understood." she said. I nodded. "So...Patrick...you two really a couple now?" she asked. I blushed.

"Yeah...he's really the greatest. He's so sweet...and gently...and he never forces anything on me or anything..." my voice trailed off as I remembered...

"Just be careful with men sweetie. They can be there and then run at the smallest sign of problems," I knew she was talking about dad. "and then just whiz back when you think they're finally gone." she added, staring at the floor behind me. That made no sense whatsoever, but I ignored it. I guessed some of the booze hadn't worn off yet. "So baby girl, what do you say you invite some friends over tonight? I'm sure it'll be fun to hang out with your gang, without running from something all the time..." I smiled.

"Do you mind us?" I asked. She waved her hand at me.

"I have classes tonight. Five to twelve. We'll order some pizza, my treat and I'll clear out of here by four thirty." she said. I stood up and walked around the counter and hugged her.

"Thanks mom!" I said.

"Just do me one favor sweetie."

"Sure, what?"

"Take those last bottles of wine and vodka in the fridge and the cabinets, and dump them down the sink. I don't think I can do it myself. But baby this has got to stop with me."

"You mean it mom?"

"I'm gonna try Heather, I'm gonna try."

So after making some calls, Patrick, Pete, Andy, Parker, and Joe were all coming over at five. They all explained what had happened to their parents and they all pretty much understood. So my mom ordered three pizzas, kissed me goodbye, and went off, leaving us alone for the night. Pete showed up not too long after that, then Joe, then Parker, than Patrick and Andy. I know how cheesy this will sound, but with all we'd been through that week, they didn't seem like my friends. They were like my family (of course I already thought of Pete as my brother). I was at a level of trust and understanding with these six people, the kind of trust I only feel with my...cousin or something...except with Patrick. Because that'd just be wrong. Patrick's just on a...whole different level than anyone I've ever known. No one's ever treated me like he does, ever returned my feelings at the magnitude he does, understood me quite as well, loved me as unconditionally...it felt good to have someone, and have that feeling that no matter where you are, if you fall down he's picking you back up. Joe flicked on the T.V. and we ended up watching "Are You Afraid Of The Dark?". We all sat in the living room, either on the couch, armchair, or on the floor eating pizza. The worst part of all this (other than the fact that we were seventeen and eighteen and watching nickelodeon) was that most of us were genuinely scared. Joe even screamed every so often, causing snickers and outright laughter from the rest of us. Of course, I was practically sitting on Patrick in fear, practically breaking his hand. I get scared easily, that's all. The episode ended and we all sighed as Joe turned off the TV.

"That's enough of that." he said.

"You pansy." said Andy, kicking his shoulder from his spot with Parker on the arm chair. Joe smacked at Andy's foot and he curled his leg up under him. He turned his attention back to Parker, who had her head buried in his neck. She looked like she was asleep, but Andy kissed her cheek and started whispering in her ear, earning soft giggles from her. They looked like one of those fairy tale couples. I prayed to God that Patrick and I were at least half that cute and jealousy causing. Then I remembered what my mom told me to do. I had to dump the booze. But I couldn't...I need it in the house...one more time before it goes down the drain.

"Um...wine guys?" I asked, getting up. I heard muffled "sure's" and noises of approval and I went into the kitchen. I just kind of grabbed every bottle I could find, which added up to I think six, and brought them into the living room. I set them on the table and everyone sat up. I pulled the cork out of one of the bottles of wine, and Parker went for the last bottle of vodka.

"Hey got any shot glasses?" she asked me. I nodded and went to get them. I brought back the box of a ten set. Parker filled them all. "I'll verse you." she said.

"You're on." I replied, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, opposite her. She filled every glass until it just spilled out the top. Joe and Patrick agreed to hand shots off to Andy as they emptied to be refilled as Pete explained the rules.

"Okay." he started. "First girl to pass out, throw up, or just get really really drunk, loses. Winner take all. One. Two. Three." Parker and I tipped vodka down our throats at the same time. It kept going and going, and I don't know I got probably...ten in me before Parker held up her hand. She ran into the kitchen and we could hear her barfing into the sink. Pete held up my arm. "WINNAH!" he screamed. Parker came back in, eyes bloodshot, wiping her mouth. I didn't even feel that drunk. I was a bit dizzy as I took a seat on the couch but other than that...I reached for the bottle of vodka. I didn't even offer it around first before I downed the last few sips of it. As I lowered the heavy glass bottle from my lips I felt Patrick pull it away.

"Heather that's enough." he said. I pushed his shoulder and shook my head. Okay that made me almost fall over.

"I feel fine baby, I'm not even drunk. I've got a tolerance to this stuff, see?" I stood up and walked right into the kitchen, surprisingly steadily. I got a few glasses and brought them back in. "Wine for all." I said, filling one of the glasses to the brim and taking a sip. Patrick looked at me nervously, but poured himself a glass as well. I plopped down next to him. "Lighten up, everyone else is." I said. He rolled his eyes.

"Parker is fucking plastered off her ass, and Joe, Pete, and Andy are just happy to be in a room getting drunk with two hot girls who already are. I rolled my eyes.

"Well no one gets me, I'm all yours." I said, leaning on him to kiss him. Okay, had someone asked me right then if I was drunk, I would have said hell yeah. Drunk and LOVING IT. At this point, not even realizing it, my lips were still locked to Patrick's and I was moving over him. Like seriously straddling. Drinking did this too me; I lost all my fear, and the boozy Heather wannabe took over. My hands ran slowly down his chest and he had his hands on my hips. I could almost feel that something was going to happen, but then he stopped kissing me. I tried to keep going but he forced his mouth back and his forehead forward.

"Heather stop." he said.

"No." I protested.

"Heather this is wrong. You're the drunkest one here and I'm not letting it happen like this."

"It? Come on, you're thinkin about it." I said, diving instead for his neck. He grabbed a hold of both my hands and held me at bay.

"Heather...not like this come on." he whined. I plopped down on the couch next to him.

"Fine." I muttered, crossing my arms. Parker was passed out, Andy, Pete, and Joe were well on their way to passing out as well. It looked like Patrick was the only one in the room with any sanity left. I reached towards the last bottle on the table and raised it to my lips. Patrick pulled it away.  
"Heather NO." he commanded. I tugged at the bottle, but he had a strong grip, and I was feeling so dizzy I couldn't keep my hands gripped. He set the bottle down on the table, just in time to catch me as I fell forward, passing out in his arms.

I woke up the next morning in my bed, alone. I sat up, but immedietly fell back down from the thrashing pain in my head.

"One more time." I muttered, and proceeded to get up very, very slowly. There was a note taped to the inside of my door.

_Heather, _

_I brought you upstairs when you passed out and drove everyone else home. Don't worry, I cleaned up the living room so you're not dead when your mom comes home. I'm sorry about last night, but you understand I couldn't have let it happen. Call me gay for saying this, but I want it to be special, and I know you really do to. _

_I love you, and I'll call you when I think you're awake._

_Patrick_

My eyebrows furrowed as I reread the note. What was he talking about? What happened last night? I went back to my bed and picked the phone up off my nightstand. I dialed the number that was now so second nature.

"Hello?"

"Hey you."

"Hey Sugar how you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck."

"I'm sorry."

"Um...this will sound weird but...wanna tell me what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"I never do."

"Oh...well um...long story short you all got drunk...and you got a little over excited." I groaned.

"Oh fuck...what did I do?"  
"Nothing that bad you just...know what? Don't even worry about it. It's fine."

"Patrick..."

"Really Sugar it's fine. No one...other than me was sober enough to see it anyway so...it's okay."

"Alright fine."

"I just took everyone home and brought you upstairs."

"Oh well, thanks baby."

"No problem...so what's on the agenda for the day?"

"Ugh...probably just sleeping this headache off and watching TV." he laughed.

"Okay well, I have band practice today, but maybe I'll stop by tonight with something to make you feel better."

"Aww you're all it takes for me to feel better." I could practically hear him blushing over the phone.

"Ha, okay well, maybe I'll see you tonight."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I love you."

"You know I love you too."  
"Yeah..."

"Well, bye sugar."

"bye..." I put the phone on the receiver, and placed it back on my nightstand. A second wave of tiredness hit me and I fell back, eyes closing before I even hit the pillow.

I was awoken a few hours later by the sound of my mother yelling from down stairs. I got up quickly and this time my head didn't throb when I did. I walked slowly down the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister for support. I could hear her screaming. Obscenities, pleas, threats, other random curses, everything.

"Mom?" I cautioned.

"Hold on. What is it Heather?"

"Um...who are you talking to?"

"Heather I'm on the phone hold on. AND YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS CONTACTING US HERE, AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT AND...YES I WILL. I WILL BE ON THE NEXT PLANE OUT THERE CHRISTOPHER. I WILL. GOODBYE!" and she slammed down with such a force I'm sure I heard plastic crack. I walked into the kitchen where she was standing red-faced, breathing heavily, leaning against the counter.

"Was...was that dad?" I asked.

"Yes Heather that was your father."

"What'd he want?"

"He wants me to come out to Minneapolis, so we can finalize our divorce, sweetie."

"...Oh."

"Honey I have to go, he'll keep taking all the money if I don't officially separate from him...if I leave you some money will you be okay here for maybe a week?" about ten million and a half thoughts started running through my head just in that moment. My parents were getting a divorce, me home alone for a week with my mother hundreds of miles away, battling everything out with my father.

"Yeah...yeah mom I'll be fine is everything...going to be okay?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Sweetie everything's going to be FINE." she said. "Do me a favor, call the nearest airport and get me a flight schedule for Chicago to Minneapolis, I have to leave now.


	21. Chapter 20

_why's it gotta be that everybody's gotta see the sadness  
Everybody's lonely, we don't have to be lonely  
Baby, no baby oh, I can move you like an earthquake  
Listen to me as my hands shake  
Cause I want you, I need you  
I can't live without you, baby _

Baby don't move at all  
Cause you're about to break my fall  
Stay where you are, staring at the stars  
Don't ever move... 

[chapter twenty

It was nine o clock, Patrick was over. We were sitting on the couch Patrick was attempting to read my palm.

"Are you sure you know what you're talking about?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Um...yeah. I was reading a book on it earlier today...see this is your love line...your lifeline..."

"Um...okay."

"It looks like your destined to live a...really really short life." he said.

"Oh, thank you."

"But...you're gonna have a lot of sex...but only one child."

"Um..."

"Yeah."

"Be wrong."

"Yeah I hope." We laughed and he slid closer to me. I leaned on him lightly and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "So where's your mom at?" he asked.

"Oh...um...she left."

"School tonight?"

"...no. She's on a plane to Minnesota. My dad needs her there for the finalizing of the divorce. She'll be back next week."

"Oh...well then...okay. So what are you doing this whole time?"

"Staying here. She left me like 300 bucks for groceries and takeout and shit so...I'm good."

"Sweet." he said. I looked up at him. "Well, not sweet as in the divorce, but sweet as in...home alone for a week."

"Yeah I guess. It'll get old after a while though."

"Maybe not if I stick around."

"Ooh, like the sound of that." I said. He kissed my cheek once and left a trail of them across my jaw line, coming towards my lips. He nipped at my lower lip, something he hadn't done before, and so I went with it. Something in him was more intense than usual. His hands explored my stomach, my hips, my chest, and it gave me chills all over. He felt me shiver and pulled away from my lips. Still desperate for contact, he left his face buried in my neck and spoke from there.  
"You okay?"

"I'm fine." I breathed.

"You know Heather...you make me so fucking nervous sometimes." he muttered, following it with a tentative bite at my neck. My hand found his knee and traveled the inside of his thigh.

"Nervous now?" I asked. He didn?t even answer me, just crashed his lips against mine again.

His hands, around my hips, pushed me backwards a little bit, almost asking me if I wanted to, and so I put my head to the cushion of my own power. He collapsed over me, alternating between lips, jaw, and neck. It never really occurred to me before, but now it was obvious that he'd done this before. I didn?t really mind; I had too. But Scott...it was nothing like this. He wasn?t this sensual at all...Patrick's hands kept traveling from my shoulders to my hips and back again, like he was afraid to do anything else. I'd finally had enough of this foreplay bullshit and got a hold of one of his wrists, guiding it downward. He paused for a second before finding the zipper of my jeans, taking the little metal tab and flicking it a little, before finally dragging it down. Once the zipper was down, a heat erupted between us. He slipped his hand into my jeans in an attempt to get them off. I too was working casually at the hem of his shirt, teasing him ever so slightly. I finally pulled it over his head. So wait, I lost my jeans and he lost his shirt. This wasn?t going to work. I started work on his belt, and my hand brushed against the unexpectedly large lump growing just beneath. Upon contact with my hand Patrick basically went crazy. He slid his hands under my shirt, sliding them along my stomach and up. I helped the meaningless fabric over my own head. I finally just broke the kiss to look down and get his belt off. He got fed up too and pulled it off effortlessly with his own hand. I slid them down and kicked them off, exposing boxers. So down to the underwear. Patrick released my lips, leaving me to breathe heavily and started trailing his mouth down my neck to my chest, using his teeth on occasion. He sunk his teeth into my bra and one hand reached up my back, squeezing the hooks together and forcing them to unclasp. I pulled it clumsily off me and threw it in a pile with the other clothes. Looking down as his head working it's way down my stomach, I decided that his hat was no longer appropriate. I threw it behind me and tangled my fingers in his hair. I shuddered again as his lips and tongue touched the area right between my navel and the band of my underwear. As soon as he felt fabric on his lips he slid back up to kiss me again. I could feel him pressing into my thigh and I could practically hear him pining to get out of the boxers. Instead of abiding by his plea I slipped my hand inside and grabbed him. He let out a soft moan.

"Fuck Heather..." I pulled off my own last remaining garment and let them fall, but left him in his pants. "No fucking fair." he muttered. He quickly pulled his boxers off and discarded them as well. I had to say there was something to this skin-to-skin contact thing. At this point, while Patrick seemed to be regaining control of himself, it all became too much for me. I arched my back and pushed my hips up, trying to meet his. He let out a small laugh

"Patrick come on...fuck, come on..."

"Ahhh I don't know..." in response I bit him where shoulder became neck. I broke the skin, but only enough to make the slowest trickle of blood dribble foreword. The psycho in me took over and I licked it up. I got the smallest of moans out of him, he was a quiet little fucker (no joke intended) sometimes wasn?t he? Finally, at the moment I least expected it he entered me. God...we were moaning together into each other's mouths. His hips moved up and down, and I tried to move mine in his rhythm, but he pinned my hips down with his hands, holding me still.

"Oh come ON." I whispered.

"Calm down, just wait." he said.

"Mr. take control huh?" I asked.

"When I know what I'm doing."

"Oh you dirty little Slut."

"Thank you." But he was right. After changing angles maybe twice, he hit a spot that made me scream out in unexpected ecstasy. My hips jolted up, breaking Patrick's hold on them. "Told you." he moaned.

"Shit Patrick do that again." he did and it forced another scream out of me. Realizing just how much that got to me, he hit it with every other thrust and soon my screaming stopped, and I just replaced it with moans that seemed to drive him harder. I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip as my best signal that I was close. Like I could honestly fucking talk. He dove back for my lips and that just added to the sensuality of it all, making it even harder to wait for him. I wanted it to happen simultaneously. He inhaled sharply and pulled out, warm liquid probably ending up all over the couch/floor. Honestly I didn?t give a fuck. Three or four more thrusts, all to that one spot, and it happened. My eyes went wide open and I let out my loudest moan yet. My back arched so much that it hurt and I tried to force my hips upwards, prolonging the time before he left me and it was over. I dug my nails into his back, probably (hopefully) drawing blood. We both went limp and fell over the edge of the couch, collapsing instead in a heap on the floor together, and within minutes, I was asleep.


	22. Chapter 21

_One day._

_I wont take this anymore_

_One day._

_I'll be old enough._

_to do to do to do what I want to._

_and I wont have to run away._

_and you wont be there to say I'm not allowed to._

_One Day._

[chapter twenty one

I awoke the next morning fucking freezing. I looked down at my body and noticed my lack of clothing. I looked around and didn't see Patrick anywhere, but I did see his shirt and hat, so I knew he couldn't be far. I sat up and began to search for clothes. I found underwear, I assumed everything else was behind the couch. I smelled coffee, and I saw Patrick come out of the kitchen in just his jeans, boxers peeking out over his open belt. He took a small sip from a mug of coffee before smiling at me from across the room.

"Morning." he said.

"Morning." I replied, bending my knees to pull my purple underwear over my feet and up my legs.

"Wait a sec." he said. I stopped moving.

"What?" I asked. He just leaned against the back of the couch and stared at me. He tilted his head to the side. I was staring at him, waiting for him to say what I was waiting for.

"Hey can you move your arm?" he asked. My jaw dropped, I looked down and covered myself.

"PERV!" I shrieked, throwing his hat at him. It nailed him in the forehead and he pretended to fall backwards into unconsciousness. I laughed and fell backwards, still making my best attempt to keep my legs together and my boobs covered. Yes we are weird. He got up, panting. I started to pull my jeans on. "Fuck I need a cigarette." I said, wondering if Parker might have left one in my room, or down here somewhere.

"Heather...sugar why?"

"Patrick come on, Parker does it, you're friends with her, you don't give her any shit."

"That's because she's not my girlfriend, therefore I don't kiss her."

"You better not."

"Oh chill."

"Well come on baby, don't tell me you've never heard of sex and a cigarette?" I asked, starting to walk around in just jeans in search of a god damned cigarette. Patrick walked over to me.

"What about sex and coffee?" he asked, extending his half-full mug to me.

"Ooh, what about all three? That sounds good..." I took the mug and kept looking, but he grabbed me by my hips from behind, spinning me around. He kissed me lightly, and pulled away when I went for something deeper. Out foreheads pressed together.

"Heather...you drink, you smoke, you worry me. Why do you do it?" I sighed.

"I just...like it. It just...feels good you know?" I said. "In all honesty, that's all there was to it. I don't have any big deep seeded issues that make me drink. I'm not escaping anything, it doesn't help me release...it just feels good."

"Well...why don't you find something else that feels good? Something that won't kill you in the long run..."

"Hmm well, you feel good." I laughed, grabbing his package through his jeans. He moved my hand away.

"Heather, Heather I'm serious." I sighed.

"Okay FINE. I'll lighten up on the booze okay? There."

"And the cigarettes..."

"I'll tell Parker not to smoke around me and I won't get tempted."

"Promise?"

"Promise." and he rewarded me with a kiss. Just then, I heard the front door open. Our wide eyes locked and we dove next to the couch, trying to hide.

"HEATHER! WAKE UP! I COME BEARING BAGLES. HOT ONES. LET'S EAT." it was Pete. I exhaled. He heard me.

"Heather...is that you? Are you on the floor...OH! Oh...shit." He had leaned over the couch and discovered us hiding. He backed away quickly and I heard the paper bag drop on the floor. "I'll just um...be in the kitchen with..." he picked the bag up. "With breakfast for...three...then okay...um...right." he ran towards the kitchen, eyes hiding in his elbow. I collapsed on Patrick's chest as he let out a singular snort of laughter. I laughed too.

"Come on I want a bagel." I said. He stood up and walked into the kitchen. I put my shirt on and followed him in. Pete was nervously cutting three bagels in half, cheeks still crimson. He turned and saw us enter.

"Oh...morning guys." he said.

"Morning Pete." said Patrick as we walked past him to the small kitchen table. I followed him and clapped my hand on Pete's shoulder on the way. We sat down and Pete continued messing around with the bagels.

"Who takes butter who takes cream cheese..." he asked. Patrick and I both requested the latter, and so he made three. "Hey Heather guess what."

"What Pete." I asked.

"I remembered."

"Huh?" and then he walked over with a bagel and a candle, and started to sing.

"Happy Birthday to youuuu happy birthday to youuu. Happy birthday dear Heather..." he set the plate of flaming bagel in front of me. "Happyyyyy...yeah you get the point."

"What...the?" I asked.

"It's your birthday today stupid!" he said, excited.

"My birthday isnt for...wait...what's the date?"  
"March twenty seventh."

"Oh...oops." Patrick laughed.

"Sugar did you forget your own birthday?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I just...never paid attention to them I guess. I don't really like birthdays..." I said. In truth, I really used to LOVE my birthday. My whole life, my mom and dad would throw me these huge parties for all my little friends. They'd rent a moon bounce, brought in clowns and girls dressed up like the Disney princesses, it was so cool. But the year I turned ten, my dad started toning the parties down, just a sleepover or something because I was "too old for all the thrills. It's just a birthday". After that, I was just okay with waking up, looking in the mirror, noticing another year lost, and being done with it. Even my mom stopped bothering to recognize my birthday by...probably age thirteen, so I just forgot them, and every year, March 27th, I just started saying I was another year older.

"So...we're a month apart then!" said Patrick. "I'm April 27th." Pete turned his head to the side and bit the end of his tongue before talking.

"Soul matessss." he said in a high pitched gay boy voice. I threw my bagel at him.

Three days. Three days passed with my mom in Minnesota and she didn't call. I was starting to think her plane had crashed...or her rental car...or my dad had killed her or something. I mean, it's not that I miss her, I just figured she'd call...Anyway, Joe, being the nice guy he is, has been giving me driving lessons in his mom's minivan, with Patrick, Andy, Parker, and Pete sitting in the car as my moral support. I have my license and everything, however I've managed to get into a number of fender benders in Minneapolis, so I asked the guys if they'd help me get better at driving. It was actually working. I hadn't smashed anything in the two lessons I'd been given...however Joe was really paranoid about me hitting something, seeing as his mom didn't know we were using her van. After probably two hours of Joe screaming every time I went more than three miles per hour, Parker had finally had enough.

"HEATHER YOU HAVE PATRICK YOU DON'T NEED JOE TO TEACH YOU." she shrieked, frustrated. I stopped in the middle of the street and looked over into the back seat. I nodded.

"You're right." I got out of the car, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Joe took the driver's seat and I got shotgun.

"So what's the plan?" asked Andy.

"I wanna go home." I said. "Patrick, wanna come over?" I asked.

"Sure."

"What? More fuck on the agenda then?" asked Pete slyly.

"PETER!" I screamed from the front seat, glaring at him in the rearview mirror. A very long string of "Woahhh" and "Ow Ow"s chorused from Joe and Andy, and Parker smacked the back of my seat.

"HEATHER WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" she shrieked in excitement. My jaw dropped.

"I didn't think it was that important!" I said.

"WELL IT IS!"

"OKAY FINE! Well, me and Patrick, we did it okay? There."

"Well it's too late now." she said.

"Oh shut up Parker." said Andy. "You haven't told her that we did." There was an "Ohhh" from everyone in the car. I raised my eyebrow at Parker as she sank down in her seat.

"Et tu Parker?" I asked. She gave me the finger and I turned away, smiling.

"SHIT!" said Andy. I turned around. Andy was inspecting Patrick's neck, where the little tear in the skin from my teeth still remained. He was blushing, and after probably three seconds, so was I. "Pete look at this." he said. Pete inspected the bite too.

"Day-um Heather!" he said, looking at me, eyes wide. It was my turn to sink down in my seat.

"JOE, check it out; she's VISCIOUS!" said Andy. Joe laughed, then looked at me, saw the murder in my eyes and the laughter stopped. "Remind me to stay on your good side Heather." he said, leaning away from Patrick.

The next day (yes folks, mother gone for four days, no phone call, and I'm running low on cash, not to mention I'm going to vomit if I eat takeout one more time) Patrick was over, and we were (come on, what else would we be doing) making out on my bed, when the phone rang. I started to slide out from under him, and he made his best attempt to keep me there.

"Baby I have to get that." I said. He moaned into my cheek.

"Let it go."

"No...it might be my mother..." I got my feet on the floor and picked up my phone. "Hello?" I said.

"Heather? Sweetie it's mom."

"Hey mom." I said. I walked with my phone back to my bed and sat down next to Patrick, who immedietly started nipping at my earlobe and kissing my neck. I leaned away from the distraction to concentrate on my mother.

"How's the settlement going?" I asked.

"Oh sweetie I've called to tell you the most WONDERFUL news. There is no settlement!"

"Um...huh?" I actually started smacking Patrick's shoulder because he would not stop.

"Sweetie, your father and I worked everything out. We're moving back in together."

"Um...and I'm still here in Wilmette."

"Sweetie I want you to pack your bags and we're putting you on the next flight out here to Minneapolis." my heart stopped.  
"You two can't...come back here?"

"No...honey we still have our house here. Come on sweetie, you can come home, I can home school you again! You won't have to go to school anymore!"

"But mom...no...I'm...I want to stay here." I said, getting really nervous now. Patrick's head, which was staring at his converse, snapped left to look at me, concern filling his face.

"Heather. Look. You are coming home now, and we are finally going to be a real family. Come on Heather, the family we always wanted to be..."

"Mom no."

"Heather."

"No."

"Heather I'm your mother you have to listen to me."

"I'm eighteen mom."

"No you aren't."

"Oh, so I'm not the only one who forgot my birthday. March twenty seventh mom. It's March 31st right now."

"Oh...Heather darling I didn't call you..."

"And you don't have to. I can do what I want now. I'll get a job, I'll stay in this house."

"Heather..." I could hear hints of tears in her voice, they only matched mine. "Heather sweetie come on..."

"I can survive mom. Goodbye."

"Hea-" click. I hung up the phone and squeezed my lips together, trying to keep air and sobs inside.

"She's not coming home is she?" asked Patrick quietly. I breathed in sharply with a squeal at his words and my body fell hard onto my pillow, face in my hands. I felt Patrick's upper body settle lightly over mine, protecting me from anything that might be there. "Shhhhh. Shhhhh it's okay...it's okay...you have me and Parker and the guys...everything's going to be okay..." I wanted to believe the comforts he whispered into my hair, but I wasn't sure at all. I'd never actually had to live alone before. I didn't know how to do anything, pay a bill, keep electricity on and water running...I didn't know how to do that...I didn't even have a job. I had no idea where it was going from here...


	23. Chapter 22

_Hold your head high heavy heart.  
So take a chance and make it big,  
Cause it's the last you'll ever get.  
If we don't take it, when will we make it?  
I make plans to break plans,  
And I've been planning something big, planning something big, planning._

I've never tried to make the best of my time,  
When I thought that I had plenty of it.  
Is this serious?  
I don't know what to think.  
Is it all a lie?  
Well one thing is for sure  
I'm taken back to the glory days  
When we were kids without a brash or bitter thing to say.

Now my life is one big make it...or break it.

[chapter twenty two

A year passed. No, I'm completely serious, a year. It was now April of senior year, 1997 and everyone was freaking out...but mostly me. Sure I had a job (Yeah, I'm a waitress), and sure I was paying the bills, but could I pay for college? I'd been getting along well because for the past year my house has kind of become everyone's house. Parker stays over practically every night, Patrick's over quite often too, as well as everyone else. They eat here, they drink here, so because of that, and because they understand my money situation, they will quite often come over with Andy's van chock full of groceries to get me through like...the next three weeks. But senior year is almost over, and everyone is looking at colleges. I'm worried though, because I can't afford tuition...make no mistake I want to go, and I'm going to...I'm just going to be in student loan debt until I'm worm chow. For the record, I've laid off the booze almost completely, with a LOT of help from Patrick, and I've had FIVE cigarettes in the past year. That's right fuckers FIVE. IN A YEAR. Parker can go through five in a day. So yeah, I'm good. Patrick and I are still together, Andy and Parker are an amazing couple, and Joe and Pete still prefer " the single swinger life" as they call it. So let me set the scene for this very moment in time. Pete and Joe are sitting on the grass in my backyard, dumping coke cans into a bucket, just to use the cans to practice smashing them against their heads. We're only letting them do it because we're hoping to watch one of them knock themselves out. Parker, Andy, Patrick and I are sitting on the back porch. Parker is sitting on Andy's lap while he drums a beat on her thighs that goes along with a song Patrick is playing on his acoustic guitar. It was a new one that he and Pete had just taught to Andy and Joe, and they really thought they had it this time, so they were testing it on Parker and I. I really really liked it. Apparently it was a regular song, not an acoustic, but I liked the acoustic a lot. He confessed that he'd written it a while ago...while I was still with Scott. When he liked me, but I barely noticed him. There was something to having a song this good being about me. I closed my eyes, put my head in Patrick's lap and listened to him sing.

"You need him, I could be him. I could be an accident but I'm still trying. And that's more than I can say for him...where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman. And maybe he won't find out what I know; you were the last good thing about this part of town..." his voice trailed off.

"That's really fucking good." said Parker.

"Guys you've really got it this time."

"You could seriously get famous of just that song."

"Yeah," started Andy. "We need to write a few more songs just so we can have an album for this one."

"What about Saturday?" I asked. Patrick's eyebrows furrowed.

"You think? It's not terribly good..."

"It's GREAT!" I said. "it's my favorite. Will you sing it for me?" Patrick rolled his eyes and sighed like it was some huge deal, then laughed.

"I suppose.." and he started strumming. "I'm good to go. And I'm going nowhere fast. Could be worse I could be taking you there with me. I'm good to go, but it looks like I'm still on my own...I'm good to go for something golden, but the motions I've been going through have failed. And I'm coasting on potential towards the wall at a hundred miles an hour. When I say: two more weeks. my foot is in the door. Yeah. I can't sleep in the wake of Saturday. Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended..." he had to stop, because he can't exactly sing well while being assaulted on the lips by me. Pardon me, but he's perfect when he sings, I love him when he sings and sometimes I can't control it. I turned around and kneeled in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands snaked around my waist and slid into the back pockets of my jeans. That gave me the chills, just like he does so very very often. He knows how to make me feel right, real, loved, wanted the way only he can. My thoughts were interrupted by Joe.

"GET A ROOM." he shouted from the lawn. "I'M ABOUT TO PASS OUT FROM A COKE-A-COLA SUGAR COMA, I DON'T NEED TO WATCH YOU TWO GET IT ON ON THE PORCH."

"WE'LL GO INSIDE THEN." Patrick shouted back. He looked at me, hands still in my pockets. His hands tightened slightly around my butt and made me shudder. "Want to?" he asked, smirking at me. I scrunched up my nose in thought (it's quite unattractive) but shook my head.

"Not in the mood." I said. He doesn't really mind when I don't want to. He's oh so tolerant of me and my needs, because I've learned a few tricks to make it worth the wait. Yes that DID sound rather whore-ish didn't it? His hands left my pockets and traveled up my back underneath my shirt. I moved back so his hands landed at his sides before I turned around and leaned my back against his stomach, settling in between his slightly parted legs. His arms wrapped automatically around my waist and his forehead dropped to my shoulder. I closed my eyes and tried to feel his heartbeat on my back, tried to hear it. I could feel it pulsing slowly and evenly into my shoulder. Beat one two three four five beat one two three four five beat one two three four five beat one two three four five...

I woke up in my bed, alone. I looked out my window and saw the sun had just set, and just the slightest pink lit the sky. I sat up and saw a note on my chest.

_Hey sleepyhead,_

_Didn't want to wake you up, but the guys and I have a show tonight and we had to go._

_Um...Parker didn't feel like going this time so she's at home if you want to call her, but we're playing at the Garage again in case you want to come. You rarely do, but maybe this time you'll swing by? If I don't see you there I'll call you in the morning. _

_Love you more than oxygen, _

_Patrick _

I closed my eyes and smiled. I loved it when he said that: "Love you more than oxygen". It's one of those things that no one else can possibly come up with, I can't think of anyone who has ever needed me like that...or anyone who I've needed just as much. My watch said eight thirty, and from what Pete had said, Fall Out Boy went on at nine something. Thinking in my head about where the garage was, I got up and changed. I'd only gone to one or two of the band's little shows, and neither were in this venue. They were really excited. The Garage was an interesting place to play, because it was just that. This forty something year old guy who lived on the edge of town in this HUGE house that he was constantly adding on to, used to be in this weird band that no one had ever heard of and loved to have his hands on the teen rock/punk scene at all times. So he got work done and expanded his garage and built a stage on it. There's actually tables and a (non-liquor) bar and everything. People go there even when there isn't a band playing, but it's the place to be when there is a band. It's a great way to get exposure and this guy apparently saw Fall Out Boy play...somewhere else, don't remember, and INVITED them to play at The Garage. So it's a pretty big deal; that's why I decided to go. I left my jeans alone, but took off my baggy t-shirt, digging through my closet for something prettier.

"Oh!" I squealed, stumbling upon something I'd bought a while ago, but had never had an excuse to wear. It was this black spaghetti strap shirt that had all these flowy mesh layers over a white under layer. I put it on and discovered it looked really good. I took my hair down from the tight bun it was in, with the intention to brush out the scrunch, but discovered the scrunch effect looked REALLY good. I put on flip flops, reapplied eyeliner and walked out the door. Ten minutes later I was standing outside the house where the garage was. I walked through the back gate, following the sounds. Dammit, I could already hear Patrick singing. He was going to think I hadn't shown. I hurried through the huge backyard and saw the light streaming onto the driveway from the open car door of the garage. The first thing I saw from the stage was Joe having one of his maniac moments. He was standing next to Pete, and then all of a sudden he pushed Pete's back down and rolled right over Pete's back, then jumping up and kicking against a speaker, landing on his back, still playing. I laughed and people stared at me. It looks cool on a stage with a huge crowd in front of them, but seeing it happen (and watching it go wrong) in Andy's garage just makes it hysterical. I started trying to push through the crowd, and eventually, though people yelled at me, I made it about two thirds of the way to the front. I jumped up twice, hands waving over my head, and I saw an insane smile play across Patrick's face as they started up "Pretty in Punk". Another one about me. It gave me this weird urge to laugh because only five people in the garage knew who the song was written about, let alone that she was in the room, amongst the crowd.

"Walking off that stage tonight, I know what you're thinking and. He stands alone because he's high on himself, if he only knew. I'm too terrified and would you mind if I sat next to you and watched you smile." he pointed right at me, and I heard a few girls swoon, thinking he's pointed at them. I smiled wider, letting them have their moment of the cute underground band singer picking them out from the crowd, knowing that I was the one going home with him after the set was done. I mouthed along to the words and let my foot tap and my head bang ever so slightly, before moving sideways, trying to get to the side of the stage. I got my back against the wall and inched forwards. The song ended and Pete spoke.

"Okay, we just finished this one a few days ago, our friends really think it's fucking good, so we're gonna try it for you guys right now okay?" he asked. The responses were cheers and jeers and "play it"s. So Pete nodded at Patrick and he sang a ca'pella.

"Where is your boy tonight I hope he is a gentleman, and maybe he won't find out what I know, you were the last good thing about this part of town." the guitars started up, then the drums, and my heart rushed up into my throat, nervous for the guys and the reaction of the crowd. "When I wake up I'm willing to take my chances on the hope I'll forget that you hate him more than you notice I wrote this for you. You need him, I could be him I could be an accident but I'm still trying...and that's more than I could say for him." as he entered the chorus my heart shot up into my throat in euphoria as the crowd started cheering for the song. I had never seen anything like this, people were trying to scream the words along, even though they'd never heard the song. The chords and beats were unstoppable, and it was so much more powerful than it was when Patrick played it for me today acoustic. The song ended and I was there when Patrick rushed off the stage. He grabbed me and lifted me up by my hips, spun me once before pushing me against the wall, pressing his body to mine and pushing his sweaty lips on my slightly cold ones. I bent my knee and let it slide up his inner thigh, and that only pressed him closer. I swear I could FEEL jealous eyes on me at being the singer's girlfriend, and I wondered it Parker got these same looks whenever she went to see Andy play. I finally pushed Patrick off.

"We're in public." I said.

"I don't care." he whispered and attempted another dive at my face. I moved out of the way and he slammed into the wall. I laughed and followed him outside for some actual oxygen with the other guys. We were sitting out on the grass, asking me what I thought, talking about other songs they were working on, etcetera. I was facing the garage, and saw an older man walk out, spot us, and walked towards us. He had longish hair, about to his ears and it was wavy and graying. He had frown lines in his forehead, but right now he was smiling. His blue eyes twinkled in the light from the house to his left. He wore a half buttoned collared shirt and a loose tie, all over jeans. He walked over to us sitting on the grass and sat down between Pete and Joe.

"AMAZING Job guys." he said. They all thanked him. He looked at me, then at Patrick who had his arm around my shoulder. "You must be proud of your boyfriend miss." I nodded and pressed my head into Patrick's shoulder.

"Who are you?" asked Joe. The man raised his eyebrows as if no one had ever asked him that question before.

"Oh, of course well, I'm Adam. Adam Blakeslee. I'm with Fueled By Ramen records and...you guys were amazing in there. How old are all of you?"

"Seventeen, seventeen, seventeen, eighteen." said Andy, pointing to each boy respectively. Mr. Blakeslee nodded slowly. He finally spoke, in a voice that sounded really sudden.

"I come here a lot because it's got a reputation for featuring some pretty good bands but guys...that last song you played...what was that?"

"Oh the new one? Grand Theft Autumn." said Andy.

"Damn that's good." said Mr. Blakeslee. "I swear to god, the way you got that crowd up...the energy on stage...it was insane. It was incredible, it was what we need at Fueled By Ramen records. Pete's eyes got wide at the same time mine did.

"You wanna sign them?" I asked. He nodded.

"I'd like to demo you guys to the execs and maybe record later on this year. Anyone interested?" all four hands went up like bullets.

Two weeks later, with permission from all the guy's parents, they demoed "Grand Theft Autumn" for the executives at Fueled By Ramen, and they LOVED them. Fall Out Boy got signed on the spot. They have a one album contract that might get extended if the first one sells well. Patrick was telling me all this on the floor, sitting between my couch and my coffee table at probably three in the morning. The guys had gone right from the studio to a bar and gotten really fucking drunk to celebrate, and then he walked here, needing to tell me the news. I answered the door in my pajamas, bed hair, and no makeup. He didn't seem to care. We'd been talking since one before he was done explaining everything. That little story took him two hours in his drunken slurring. I'd never actually seen him drunk before, but now at 3AM, most off the eleven thirty beer was wearing off and he seemed much more coherent. Not that I was going to let him go anywhere, but at least he wasn't crazy anymore. I put my arms around his middle and hugged him like a four year old hugs her mother; like protection.

"That's super baby." I said. His head drooped onto mine.

"Will you come watch us record on Thursday?" he asked. I nodded.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I whispered. His fingers rubbed and tapped this skin on my hip between my pajama pants waistband and the hem of my slightly too short t-shirt. His fingers were cold from the alcohol slowing his circulation, and so his touch gave me chills. I shuddered and he drew closer to me, covering more of my body with his, trying to shut out the cold. I took his hand off my hip and started playing with his fingers, letting them bounce against my lip and chin, then fall and curl against his palm. His breathing slowed and deepened, and I looked up slowly to discover he was asleep. I yawned too and snuggled against his chest, my eyes drifting closed too; his breathing was my lullaby.

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	24. Chapter 23

_Why is the bedroom so cold  
Turned away on your side?  
Is my timing that flawed,  
Our respect run so dry?  
Yet there's still this appeal  
That we've kept through our lives  
Love, love will tear us apart again_

Do you cry out in your sleep  
All my failings expose?  
Get a taste in my mouth  
As desperation takes hold  
Is it something so good  
Just cant function no more?  
When love, love will tear us apart again

[chapter twenty three

Over the next six months (keep up folks, October '97) Parker and I sat in on Fall Out Boy's recordings. They were great, I was hearing all these songs of theirs that Patrick had never shown me. I think my favorite new one had to be "The Pros and Cons of Breathing", which they were almost done recording now.

"Stood on my roof and tried to see you forgetting about me. Hide the details I don't want to know a thing." sang Patrick and Pete. Parker and I were rocking out the way only we could, watching our boyfriends in a recording studio, and screaming along to the words. We were their biggest fans, it got weird sometimes. I almost got that rock star sighting euphoria whenever I saw them, and then auto-reminded myself who they were. My boyfriend, and my best friends, and then it was normal again. The producer was sitting at the sound board smiling. He flipped a switch and the red light on our side of the glass went on. They looked up at the loud speaker on their side.

"Okay boys that was great, that's a...WRAP." he said in his heavy British accent. Parker and I screamed and rushed to greet the guys as they came running through the door. I hugged Pete, who came out first. He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, squealing into his shoulder. I kissed his cheek and he put me down. Parker left Joe alone too as Patrick and Andy walked out. He walked over to me and I just instinctively kissed him. He always gets excited after recording. It's normally a 6AM morning, and it's five thirty now, so he doesn't see me all day, so when he finally gets to me, he gets to me. He broke the kiss for a whisper.

"Let's go." he said. I nodded and we walked out to the van with the others.

"And we'll have six records, all multi platinum." kiss. "And a huge mansion in LA." kiss. "And a world tour. The US, Japan, England, fuck, Australia" kiss, fall, shirt on the floor. Patrick was telling me everything he had planned out in his head for the future of the band, mid-foreplay. He really has timing issues and it was making me uncomfortable. "And you'll be right there with me, right there..." my heart skipped a beat. Yeah that's me...right there...the support. I let his hand travel down my stomach and tug at my pajama pants before I lightly grabbed his wrist and stopped him. "What?" he breathed, sounding disappointed. I guess he was expecting something this time. I hadn't really wanted too that much lately. And now was not the time either, not with all these thoughts of a "world tour and a mansion in LA" running through my mind. Talk about distractions. I shook my head.

"I'm really tired." I said, before rolling over to face the wall. I heard him sigh before shivering a little bit. He sat up and pulled my blanket over both of us, settling down right behind me and wrapping his arm around my middle, his bare chest pressing into my tank-topped back.

"Night, Sugar." he whispered.

"Night."

"Love you..."

"Like oxygen." I yawned. He put his chin in the crook of my neck and we fell asleep.

They were leaving. Huge world tour, and I couldn't come with them. Parker was going, but there was no more room on the bus, no more airline tickets. I was saying goodbye, crying, screaming no don't go. He hugged me once and the door closed behind him. I fell to the floor, crying hysterically.

"Aren't you glad he's gone?" said a voice from the other room. I looked up from the floor as I heard footsteps enter the room. There, in front of me, stood Scott. I rose quickly to my feet, backing away quickly. He advanced on me, that disgusting smirk on his face. He ran a cold hand down my cheek and I cried out in terror, still trying to back away. I turned and started to run, but fell backwards over the couch. He pounced on me, pinning me down. I started screaming.

"YOU'RE NOT REAL!" I shrieked trying to push the very solid, very there Scott off me. "YOU'RE DEAD!"

"ALL FOR YOU HEATHER. I DIED FOR YOU." he shouted back. I screamed and he forced me silent with a rough harsh kiss...

I awoke screaming in darkness, sitting bolt upright .I scared the shit out of Patrick, who screamed and tumbled off the bed. I stopped screaming, and realized Patrick was right there. I was in my room, no Scott, just Patrick cursing and muttering as he got up. The sudden relief shook me and I shivered in my cold sweat, starting to sob uncontrollably. No tears came though, just dry raking sobs. I bit my knuckle to stop myself from crying out in terror. Patrick scurried next to me and held me protectively around my shoulders. He kissed my cheek, before pressing his cheek to mine, his hand on my other cheek. He rocked me back and forth until I was crying, like a small child. I latched on to the arm that was around my front and let what few tears came out drip onto his skin. I wiped my arms and Patrick lowered my head back onto my pillow, laying down next to me and stroking my hair.

"Bad dream Sugar?" he asked quietly. I Shook my head.

"Don't ever leave me." I whimpered. His eyebrows went down and his mouth opened slightly like I'd just said something shocking. He shook his head too.

"I would never." he said. He hugged me tightly, hand on the back of my head, pressing my forehead into his chest.

"Mean it?"

"Mean it."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Swear?"

"Swear." I pulled away from his chest and kissed him hard. After a few reluctant seconds, the worried Patrick left and the good kisser Patrick took over (it's like schizophrenia) I swear. I let my hand run down his already bare chest and he shuddered a little bit. "It's a bit late huh?" he asked as my hand traveled further down. I shook my head.

"It's never too late." I said, rolling over onto him.

"Thought you were tired." he said.

"Come on don't turn off on me now." I said.

"Oh, I won't." he whispered mischievously. I wouldn't let that dream come true; no part of it. He wasn't going anywhere.

I can't have slept for more than five hours when my internal alarm clock that forces me up by ten kicked in. I sat up and looked at Patrick next to me, half covered in the twisted blankets, sprawled out in all directions. I sighed and smiled as I remembered last night. He doesn't even ask questions when I need him. He just does. And when he wants to and I don't, he doesn't even push it. He give all, takes nothing. How could I ever think that dream would come true? How could I imagine him leaving? I fell back on my pillows and curled up behind him. I put my head on his neck and blew a quick shot of air in his ear. He stirred a little and a sleepy smile crossed his lips. I ran my fingertips up and down his upper arm and watched his face for the reaction. I felt goose bumps pop up on his arms at my touch. I had to laugh a little as he shrugged his shoulder up to his chin, trying to shake what was disturbing his sleep. I kissed his cheek and nestled my face in his hair, my eyes closing again. Almost as soon as I was close to asleep again, he rolled over.

"Hey you." he whispered. "Awake?" I opened my eyes.

"Mhm." I mumbled. He was staring at me with that same benign smile he had after our first time. It's not like this was only the second time (come on people, it's been a year) but then again it's not like we fuck like rabbits like...some people (cough cough Parker cough cough Andy), so when we do it's still special.

"Felling better?" he asked. I rolled over to face him and nodded.

"Thanks to you." I said. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"I tend to have that effect." he said. I pushed away from him, laughing.

"Freak!" I said. His eyes lit up as his smile broadened.

"Come on you know you love me." he said, pulling me back, flush against him. I smiled, looking his whole face over.

"Yeah, yeah I do." I whispered. He closed his eyes and his smile closed, but remained.

"I love you so much." was all he said. I pushed my forehead to his and our noses brushed together a little bit every now and then. Every now and then he'd place the smallest kiss on my lips, but mostly we just kind of stayed there for god knows how long. But then my phone rang. I rolled my eyes and he sighed and I did eventually get up to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey it's Joe, is Patrick there?"

"Mhm hold on." I held the phone out to Patrick. "It's for you." He sat up and took the phone.

"Hello. Oh, hey Joe. Yeah, yeah I did. Oh dude SHUT UP. Yeah, whatever okay so what's up?" his eyes got wide and he stood up. "Seriously?" he asked. "Like, with press and everything? Holy SHIT that's awesome. Yeah, yeah give us...an hour. One thirty? Yeah sure. Kay, bye." he hung up the phone and bent down, searching for his jeans.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Get pretty." he said.

"Excuse me?" I said, raising an eyebrow as my hands flew to my hips. He looked up, realizing his mistake with a smile.

"Sorry, you're always pretty, beautiful, breathtaking, I just mean get dressed. Nice clothes, hair, makeup all that shit. We're going to a meeting." he said, pulling his shirt on before he was even done with his jeans. He stood up, jeans at his knees and fell forward onto the floor. I fell over too from laughing.

"What kind of meeting?" I asked.

"Planning an album release party." he said eyebrows lifting and going back down twice. My jaw dropped.

"Party? Big time party?" I asked. He nodded.

"Press, bigger labels, important people..." he mused, looking at his reflection in the mirror.  
"...I'll get dressed." I said, realizing this was really really intense.

"Nice, but not too nice." Patrick called from the bathroom.

"Kay." I responded. I went into my closet and went instinctively for jeans. I slid them on and opted for this magenta lace corset top with black lace over it. I pulled on a denim jacket over that and met Patrick in the hallway. He smiled as he looked me over before grabbing me by the hips and pulling me close into a kiss.

"You're beautiful." he whispered.

"I know." I joked. "And I love you."

"I love you too." It was so rare for me to be the one to say I love you. Normally I have to be prompted. It's not that I don't feel the same way, it's just that I have issues with expressing. You know, like I don't like putting my feelings right out there in the open...at least not first.

So here's the plan. In two weeks , they're putting Take This To Your Grave on the shelves. Seriously, Tower Records, Sam Goody, Coconuts, etcetera. And in two weeks, there will be a party. A big party full of executives from Warner Brothers, Virgin, Atlantic, EMI, you name it, they'll be there. Apparently Fall Out Boy are a real hot commodity now. EVERYONE wants to sign them! It's insane. So we're going to this party to get crazy and let record boys sweet talk us into deals and treat us like royalty.

And I'm royalty's girlfriend.

"Can't we just come over to see you?" the voice pleaded over the speaker phone.

"NO Andy, you can see us when we get to the party!" I said.. PArker and I were standing in my room, half dressed for the party, listening to Andy and Patrick plead to be able to come over and see what we were wearing before the party.

"Heatherrrrr sugar pleaseeee. I wanna see how pretty you look." complained Patrick.

"Patrick you can see your pretty girlfriend in an hour when we get there!" said Parker.

"Ugh. Fine." they said in unison.

"Bye boys." we said together, and hung up.

"They are PATHETIC sometimes." said Parker. She seemed angry.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, concerned. She shook her head.

"It's nothing."

"No...it's something."

"I'm fine." she sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed, staring down at her skirt. I sat down next to her and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is it Andy?" I asked.

"Damn you're good." she said.

"What's wrong with Andy?" she shook her head.

"There's nothing really wrong with him...it's just...he's spending so much god damn time on the band and on school and...seriously we haven't done it in like a month." she said the last words like they were some fact that changed the world as we knew it. They kind of were.

"Seriously?" I asked. She nodded, eyes wide.

"How does Patrick find so much time for you?" she asked. I shrugged.

"I think he's assuming this band eliminates the need for school. So it's just me and the band kind of."

"Lucky bitch." she said, with just a hint of actual anger.

"I'm sure once the album is out his schedule will lighten up a little." She nodded.

"And I swear, first chance I get I'll just fucking...pounce on him like...like a fucking tiger and...roar." she extended her fingers like claws.   
"Okay, okay TMI." I said, holding a hand up to quiet her. She laughed. "Ugh, look at us, sitting here in bras and skirts, come on let's get dressed so we can fucking PARTY!" I said. I stood up and helped her to her feet.

"Heather? Heather are you okay in there?" called Pete through the bathroom door. I was barfing into the toilet of the record building's bathroom to the tune of some fucked up techno song I'd never heard before. I don't know what had gotten into me; just all of a sudden my stomach went nuts, maybe an hour into the party. I'd definitely been chucking for at least ten minutes, and I didn't think there could be a whole lot left in my stomach. I wet a paper towel and carefully blotted the skin around my lips, so to not rub off my pink lipstick. A glance in the mirror saw pale skin and bloodshot eyes, but the color would return once I got back into the party. Besides, it was so damn dark in the party (nothing but colored lights and strobes) that no one would notice. I opened the door and found Pete leaning against the doorframe.

"You okay?" he asked. I nodded and swallowed hard.

"I'm fine." I said. He scrunched up his nose when I opened my mouth. He pulled a pack of mints out of his pockets and handed it to me. "That bad?" I asked.

"That bad." he said. I popped three or four and handed him back the box. "Let's party." he said, extending me his elbow. We walked back into the center of the room, and cameras flashed. No, I'm serious, like PRESS CAMERAS. This was being treated like the biggest fucking event of the year. It was insane. The music faded out and we stared at the ceiling intently, waiting for the next song.

"Oh SNAP." said Pete as, yes, what else? Barbie Girl started playing. I laughed as he extended his arm and bowed. "May I have this dance?" he asked. I nodded and took his arm. I had no idea what he was doing, probably just messing around, so I went with it. He spun me around by my hand and tried to lead me in a salsa. He kept stepping on my feet, and it didn't help that I still didn't quite have my equilibrium back. As the song died down, Patrick made his way through the people and tapped Pete on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked. Pete held his hands up at his sides, indicating that I was Patrick's now. I smiled at him as his hands slid around my waist and our bodies came together. As my face pressed lightly into his chest, my eyes closed and I got lost in whatever scent he was wearing. It made me slightly dizzy in that really good floaty way, and some song with a slow rhythm kicked in. I just followed his lead as we stepped in little circles; round and round, round and round. I don't really know how it happened, but I woke up in Andy's van, laying across Patrick's lap. I looked up and saw that Patrick seemed to be dozing too. Was the party over? Did I fall asleep dancing? I felt really cold all of a sudden, and I put the back of my hand to my forehead. I was burning up. Shit. I must have caught something from Parker, or from someone at the party...or something. I sat up slowly and it startled Patrick awake. He sighed.

"Hey you." he said groggily. I smiled and settled my head on his shoulder, running my finger along his jaw line.

"Did I fall asleep and wreck the party?" I asked. He shook his head.

"We put you on a couch in the back. The party was over within like two hours anyway. Nothing interesting though...well actually." he startled.

"What?" I asked. He shook his head.

"I'll tell you in the morning, but it's exciting."

"Okay." I yawned, and fell asleep.

I was awoken the next morning by a loud fast knocking at my door.

"Comingggg." I shouted from my beg. I got up and noticed I was still in my dress from last night. I quickly stripped it off and replaced it with sweatpants and a t-shirt. I ran down the stairs as the knocking continued. "Fuck, I'm coming!" I said. I opened the door and a beaming Parker, Andy, Joe, Pete, and Patrick entered the house. "What's going on?" I asked.

"THEY'RE GOING ON TOUR!" said Parker quickly, as if she was unable to contain herself any longer. I smiled too.

"SERIOUSLY?" I asked. The boys all nodded.

"ISNT THIS AMAZING?" shrieked Parker. She was jumping. I nodded.  
"This is great!"

"And they're sending us to LA." said Joe. "To record a brand new album. Island Def Jam Records Heather. They wanna sign us." L.A? Moving? Tour? Oh...my stomach started acting up. I took the stairs three at a time and just made it to the bathroom before blowing chunks that I didn't have. Patrick came in and I felt him pull my hair back. I took a deep breath and sat up.

"You okay sugar?" he asked, turning my face to meet his. "God you're burning up." he said, removing his hand from my chin.

"I'm fine. I caught something at the party."

"You sure?" he said, the most genuine of genuine concerns on his face.

"Positive. Just let me wash my face, I'll be down in a second."

"Actually, we have to go. We just dropped by to let you know about the tour. We have to get packing. Want some help with your bags?" he asked.

"What?" I asked. My head was cloudy and not all of his words were getting through.

"We have to pack. Do you need help packing?"

"Packing for what?"

"The tour!" he said, exasperated.

"What? When do you leave?" I asked.

"This weekend."

Two days.


	25. Chapter 24

_we're in a spell that never ends  
the empty hourglass wore me thin  
so let the phone do it's work  
your voice is heaven  
but it hurts  
your words are memories  
but they burn_

_baby just say goodnight  
I'll be gone tomorrow  
baby just close your eyes  
I can't take the sorrow  
baby just walk away  
you know I can't stay  
there's no easy way to say goodbye  
so baby just say goodnight_

chapter twenty four

I don't fit into my jeans anymore. Seriously, I can't button them. I've been eating nonstop for the past day and a half and I've somehow put on ten pounds in that much time.

Something was telling me it wasn't just the food.

I sat on my bed, staring at my empty suitcase for probably an hour, waiting for the phone to ring. Every now and then my stomach lurched and grumbled, but I didn't move. I wasn't going to eat until it was dinnertime. I couldn't mess up my eating pattern or else that'd permanently fuck me up. Eventually there was a rapid knock knock knock knock on my front door. Shit...they were here. I heard the front door open and I closed my eyes as I heard them rushing up the stairs. God dammit; I was hoping he would come alone. I had to tell him, I'd have to make him understand...

"HEATHER COME ON THE BUS IS OUTSIDE TIME TO GO TIME TO GO!" he called from the hallway, still coming towards my room. I didn't move. He opened the door. "Heather?" he looked from me, to the suitcase, empty and open, and back to me. "Why aren't you packed yet?" he asked. I opened my eyes and found him standing a few feet away from me. I shook my head.

"I'm not going with you Patrick." I said quietly. He took an awkward step backwards.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not going Patrick." I repeated, louder than the first time. I wasn't even looking at him and I could see his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. it hurt me to watch him struggle like this, but I had to do this...it was so much better than the truth.

"But...why?" I stood up and walked over to him.

"Patrick...I've been...thinking. I don't want to follow you around everywhere. I don't want to go to L.A. I don't want to follow you around on tour forever..." my voice trailed off and cracked immensely. I was crying only because every word I'd just said was a fucking lie. I wanted nothing more than to follow him on tour, to L.A., to the ends of the freaking earth if I had to...but I couldn't. I wouldn't...

"Heather it wouldn't be like that...it wouldn't...I'd be...no." I couldn't imagine how, but this was definitely hurting him more than it was hurting me. I ran the last few steps into his arms and held him tight. He let his arms hang loose at his sides, but then his hands slowly slid up my back, and his arms wrapped tight around my shoulders. I heard him sob and I lost control. I kissed his cheek through my own tears and tried to choke out a few words.

"Be...okay..." I tried to say through hyperventilation.

"No...even Parker's coming with us...why won't you?"

"Patrick...please don't do this." he pulled away from me.

"Do what?" he asked, almost angry now. I took a step back. I'd never heard his voice sound like that before. I took a few steps backwards. "Get upset because my girlfriend wants me to leave without her? Heather do you understand this at all?" he asked, voice softening again as more tears welled forward.

"Of course I do." I swallowed hard, stepping back towards him. "Do you understand me?" I asked. He stopped. I think this was the first time he thought of the fact that this could be hurting me too. He nodded.

"Yeah. I..I get it." he said. He sort of went into slow motion as he looked down, closed his eyes, then his head turned to the door as Andy, Pete, Joe, and Parker came cascading in all at once.

"Pat we gotta go." said Andy, but then he looked at me. "Oh."

"Back away slowly." instructed Parker, grabbing Andy and Joe by the wrists. The three of them backed away into the hallway and sat down against the wall. Pete didn't budge.

"Heather...what's the deal?" he asked. I took a long deep breath that shuddered slightly at the end. I opened my mouth to speak.

"She won't come." said Patrick. Pete's gaze shifted to Patrick, then snapped back to me.

"What?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'm not going." I said.

"Okay." said Pete.

"WHAT?" shouted Patrick. I saw Joe jump. Pete shook his head.

"She doesn't wanna go dude. You can't make her."

"But...but she said she..."

"No I didn't."

"You never had a problem with it until now."

"It's been making me sick." I said to explain the sudden wave of nausea that just came over me for the fifth or sixth time today.

"Oh..." said Patrick slowly, a light bulb going on in his brain. Oh how I wished that light bulb would shatter. Shatter and stab his brain and skull in all different directions, so I wouldn't have to be telling him all this. I started to cry again. I heard a honk from outside.

"Guys we gotta go. Heather come on get your bag." said Parker.

"She's not going." said Patrick. Parker was in my face within sixty seconds.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I don't need to explain myself any more." I said simply, not looking into her eyes. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

"Shit Heather...come on even I'm going."

"Well I'm not." Another honk.

"Guys..." said Joe from the doorway.

"Fine." said Andy, finally speaking. "If she's not going then she's not going. But we are." he walked up to me and gave me a tight hug and one kiss on the cheek. "We'll call." he said, before turning around and walking out. Joe looked at Patrick, and Patrick looked at Pete. Pete looked at Parker, and Parker looked at me. Joe walked over to me. He didn't say anything, just hugged me once and went silently down the stairs. Parker looked at me, tears in her eyes.

"I don't understand you sometimes." She choked out.

"I don't understand you ever." I said, equally choked.

"You sure you don't want to..."

"I can't." she nodded. I hugged first this time, and I felt tears drop onto my shoulder.

"I'll see you." she said. I nodded, and we finally let go. She looked at me for a second, then followed Joe down the stairs. Pete stood close to me and held my shoulders. He kissed my forehead gently.

"You leaving me again Petey?" I asked in my best imitation of a second grader's voice. He laughed briefly.

"Don't ever fucking call me that again." he said, shaking his head. I pouted at him. "We'll visit all the time. Promise." I nodded. He gave me one more brief kiss, on the lips this time, then slapped Patrick's open palm on his way out. Patrick just kind of stood there, head staring at the floor as if his neck were broken.

"I'll miss you a lot." I finally said. A sound escaped him, it almost sounded like a laugh.

"I'm probably gonna suck on stage now. The lyrics will be great...but Heather come on this is gonna bring me so far down..."

"Patrick that's what phones are for...and computers...and airplanes...and the postal service that's always helpful..."

"Heather it's not the same!" he said. "I won't see you every morning, or every night, you won't be at the shows..."

"You can see me when you're on your breaks! Fly back out here!" I said. He just shook his head. "And we'll be together when this is all over." He rushed over to me and kissed me hard.

"I will come home for you." _I won't wait up._ "I'll call you every night." _I won't answer. _"I'll come home to visit you..." _I won't answer the door._ "And I'll always love you."_ So will I._

"So will I." I said. He kissed me again, this time lasting a bit longer, until the horn honked twice.

"I love you."

"Like oxygen." and then he let go. My body froze as soon as his heat moved away. He stopped in the doorway to look at me, before walking down the stairs. I heard the door open and close and I ran to my window. I watched as he walked down the lawn and got into the bus. Pete and Parker both blew me a kiss from the open door and I waved down to them. The bus started up and slowly drove off down the street. I took a deep breath and sat there for a minute, staring at my bed. Images started their own little three minute movie in my head, summarizing the past year a half. The ups, the downs, the tears, the laughs, the booze, the car crashes...the blood and the bruises, and the sex. Everything just kind of molded together into the best two years of my entire fucking life, and now it was all gone. I sighed and stood up, walking over to my closet. I pulled out a pair of jeans and slid off my shorts. I stood in front of my mirror and slid the jeans on. I had to jump and pull once I got about halfway up my thighs, and the jeans would not button around my stomach. I turned to view my profile in the mirror and sucked in as much as possible. I finally gave up on buttoning the damn pants and placed my hand right above my belly button, scowling nervously at the chubby reflection.  
"Ohhh baby."


	26. music

chapter one: my heart is the worst kind of weapon -- fall out boy

chapter two: no lyrics

chapter three: Cool -- gwen stefani

chapter four: Newport living -- cute is what we aim for

chapter five: curse of curves -- cute is what we aim for

chapter six: buried myself alive -- the used

chapter seven: 1979 -- smashing pumpkins

chapter eight: here in your arms -- hellogoodbye

chapter nine: together -- avril lavigne

chapter ten: Newport living -- cute is what we aim for

chapter eleven: seize the day -- avenged sevenfold

chapter twelve: first day of my life -- bright eyes

chapter thirteen: cupid's chokehold -- gym class heroes

chapter fourteen: time after time -- Cyndi Lauper (cover by Quiet Drive)

chapter fifteen: this is the best day ever -- my chemical romance

chapter sixteen: pressure -- paramore

chapter seventeen: save your generation -- jawbreaker (cover by Fall Out Boy)

chapter eighteen: everything you are -- Lindsay Pagano

chapter nineteen: The Queen and I -- Gym Class Heroes

chapter twenty: Don't Move -- Butch Walker

chapter twenty one: One Day -- Simple Plan

chapter twenty two: Phrase That Pays -- The Academy Is...

chapter twenty three: Love Will Tear Us Apart -- Joy Division (Cover by Fall Out Boy)

SOUNDTRACK (what i was listening to while i wrote this)

first day of my life -- bright eyes

don't move -- butch walker

curse of curves -- cute is what we aim for

growing up -- fall out boy

cupid's chokehold -- gym class heros

cool -- gwen stefani

demolition lovers -- my chemical romance

so sick (ne yo cover) -- Patrick stump

little razorblade -- the pink spiders

time after time -- quiet drive

congratulations smack + katy -- reggie and the full effect

it's a metaphor, fool -- say anything

you are so last summer -- taking back sunday

buried myself alive -- the used

say goodnight -- the click five

THE FIVE SONGS WHOSE LYRICS ARE COMPLETE SPOILERS FOR PARTS OF THE STORY

snitches and talkers get stitches and walkers -- fall out boy

Newport living -- cute is what we aim for

my heart is the worst kind of weapon -- fall out boy

together -- avril lavigne

Scotty doesn't know -- lustra


End file.
